#might stay up late tonight and read so I can feel ‘the good hurt’ for a while

[koviah]

When you find yourself wanting to write a candid and honest post, but deep down, you know that if anyone reads and asks you about it, you'll brush it off with a casual "oh, haha, I was just in a mood. I'm fine, really!"

So you can’t post it because you're hesitant to burden someone else with your thoughts and feelings, because you recognize that they seem insignificant in the larger context of life.

Besides, it’s been like this for years, so… here are some words from other people instead 💜✨

[bananielle]

love and suds ♡ 🫧

₊˚.⋆⁺₊ leehan x reader ୨ৎ genres: hurt x comfort. fluff.

5.7k words. cw: lowercase intended. not super proofread. reader wears a bra. negative self talk. crying. dark thoughts. kissing. bathing. if there’s anything else, please let me know! <3 @onedoornet

authors note: blew the dust off this cause i think the longer i wait the more i will want to never ever post it and this was really something i wanted to share. i wrote this a couple months ago to comfort myself when i was really struggling. i went back and took out the very dark stuff cause i felt it messed up the plot and other things and anyways! this isn’t my best writing at all but i hope it can bring even a teensy bit of comfort to anyone who might feel the way reader does. i hope it’s good enough. happy reading baby loves ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა p.s if you’re in a dark place i promise brighter days are written in the stars for u & plz remember u don’t need to be spectacular or do amazing things to be worthy of love & ur wonderful just as u are & u will be okay ♡

you wrestle with the lock of your apartment door, jamming and twisting the key around impatiently, huffing at the lack of compromise it’s giving you. all you’ve wanted to do since you left your safe haven was come right back, curl up in bed and sob into your pillow; life being too much for you to carry on your shoulders lately.

everything was difficult and stressful, and your body was barely standing upright. today was your final straw. any more stress, and you’d crumble into pieces. 

on your way home, you had looked up at the soft wash of pink and orange that was the sky, asking the universe for some kind of break. anything to ease the constant pain you felt. 

you hoped and prayed it would take kindly to your wishes, but as you’re standing here now, fighting to get into your warm home, it seems the universe ignored you. so much for asking you for any favours, you think to yourself bitterly. the thinned string of patience inside you threatens to snap as you ram the key into the lock hole for the sixth time, its stubborn self still refusing to give in. 

you take out the key, then put it back in, turn it as far left as it’ll go, and grab the door handle. you push down on it, and with all the strength you can muster, you bump your shoulder against the door, and suddenly, you’re home at last. 

you quickly shut and lock the door behind you, then kick off your shoes and switch on the main light. it’s quiet inside, despite it being the evening, only the low hum of the air conditioner floating through the place. you had thought your boyfriend would be home at this hour, as he usually is, but perhaps he had to stay longer at his schedules tonight. 

the thought weighs down on your shoulders, tears itching to escape and stream down your cheeks. a dark, heavy feeling settles in your chest. all you’ve wanted after such a long day was to see him. to collapse into his arms and feel his sturdy body against yours. and even if you did end up sobbing into your pillow the entire night, at least leehan would be there for you, laying beside you, rubbing your back and soothing you with his sweet voice, telling you that everything would be alright. 

yn: 0, universe: 2 trillion, you think. 

you’re too tired to feel hungry, and too tired to cook, so you decide to skip dinner. you switch off the main light, walking softly through the kitchen to your bedroom. it’s cold and damp inside, a fitting representation of your feelings. you don’t even have the energy to feel bothered by it. instead, you let yourself feel the goosebumps raise on your arms and the unpleasant chill caress your bare skin. 

you weakly climb onto the bed, forgetting to turn the lights on and not bothering to snuggle up under the covers. you lay there on your side, in your cold, dark room, with your knees tucked into your chest. 

for a while, your mind thinks nothing. 

until, you begin to think about all that’s wrong. a familiar feeling awakens in your veins. or maybe it’s your bones. whichever is deeper, more hurtful, it awakens there and gnaws at you.

the thoughts wash through like a tide, cruel and relentless.

you let out a sob and squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, screaming at the voice inside of you to leave you alone. your breaths come in short and panicked, and you scramble your mind to find something to tether yourself to, something to ground you and make you feel real again. 

a moment passes, and then, you see his face. 

you see his pretty smile and the even prettier dimples adorning it, a little part of you wishing you could live inside of them; safe and stored away from the hideous world. his soft eyes, all sparkling and starry appear and you try to remember how they look at you so lovingly. you see his hands tangled in yours, warm and safe and sturdy. you remember, as hard as you can, how they felt and you hold that feeling close to your heart, hoping it would soothe its rapid beats. 

leehan. leehan. leehan. you repeat like a prayer. your body relaxes. 

your breaths start to slow and you finally gulp in deeper breaths. but the relief doesn’t last for long, when you realise the pictures of your boyfriend in your mind are just that. pictures. he is not here. 

a frustrated burn settles in the back of your eyes, and you feel wet lines travel down your temples. your body shakes with every cry that escapes you, a puddle of wet forming on the covers. you sob for a while, until your head turns heavy and your eyes can barely stay open. 

please come home, leehan. i need you. 

you wish again to the universe, pleading it to do you a kindness and bring comfort to you, just this once. you hug yourself tightly while hoping for your boyfriend to come home, sniffling every now and then as your cries come to quiet. several minutes pass of you in the dark, cold and heartbroken, a heaviness stuck in the air. 

sleep nearly comes to your aid, but it’s not quick enough. you’re still awake to hear the distant, muffled sound of a key turning, and then clink of the front door unlocking. 

your heart soars in your chest. you sleepily wonder if it’s a dream, staying ever so still as you strain your ears for more sound. 

“yn? are you home, angel?” a weak sob escapes your lips at the comforting sound of leehan’s voice. you don’t know whether to smile or continue crying, so you do a strange combination of both. 

“in here”, you reply. but your voice isn’t loud enough. it’s raspy and weak, the words scraping your throat like glass as you spoke them. 

you wait a few heartbeats longer, hopeful and excited, watching the door, wondering if leehan was coming to find you.

soon enough, just as you wished, leehan finds you.

he shuffles into the pitch-dark room, turning on the light to see better. the moment he spots you, he nearly crumbles. a look of concern contort his features as walks towards your limp body and softly asks, “baby? wha- what’s wrong? are you okay? how long have you been like this?” his words spill out rushed, each one carrying more weight than the last.

he lowers himself onto the bed, adjusting himself so he’s sitting next to you, and reaches out an urgent hand out to brush away pieces of hair that stuck to your tear-stained face. “oh, baby”, he coos, stroking your hair gently. “talk to me” 

you look up at him through glassy eyes, and you break out into more sobs when you see how he gazes at you. so much concern and compassion glimmer in his eyes, it tugs at your heartstrings. his sweet words pick apart every tense nerve in your body. 

you hide your face in your hands as you cry, your breaths coming in so short and quick, they cut off every word you try to speak. 

“shh, baby. i’m here.” leehan comforts, as he leans down to place a kiss to your shoulder as one of his hands massages your back, up and down, soothingly. 

after a few more sobs and shh’s from leehan, you find a moment to take deep breaths and wipe your eyes. your limbs fight against you after being stuck in the same position for so long as you adjust yourself to sit up. you avoid his laser gaze, knowing that if you looked into his eyes, you fear the tears would never end. 

once you’ve sat up, you cross your legs and take in a shaky breath. the hand that leehan dragged up and down your back, now rests on your thigh. his other one finds the small of your back and stays there. 

you breath out deeply before speaking. 

“i’m just so tired, leehan.” your voice cracks and scratches but you don’t care enough to clear your throat. 

“i had such an awful day. i’ve been having awful days. and my head hurts so much. and my heart won’t stop beating like crazy. i feel it every second of the day and it scares me so much. everything is too much for me. i’m lost and confused and just. tired. ”, more tears stream down your cheeks, and you need to take in another deep breath before continuing. your hand finds leehans’ on your thigh and holds it tight for comfort. 

a weighted silence drifts upon the air. slowly, you look up from the random spot on the covers you’ve been trained on and meet leehan’s eyes. 

tears glisten at the edges of them, the look of concern vanished, replaced by utter sadness. his eyes trace every feature of your face, as if to find the answer to his question.

“oh, my love” he says, his voice hushed, nearly falling into a whisper. “why didn’t you tell me sooner? to know that you’ve been carrying this weight on your shoulders all by yourself, it breaks my heart. you know that’s why i’m here right? to help you carry the heavy things” 

“i-i know, leehan” you look down at your intertwined hands. “i don’t know why i didn’t, i’m sorry. i think i just, i didn’t want to burden you. i thought i could figure it out myself. make it go away on my own”, you shrug, not even realising how you’d kept your feelings a secret, subconsciously hiding them under a smile.

leehan suddenly cups your face in his hands, his eyes serious but his tone gentle. “you never have to be on your own. not as long as i’m here”, he sniffles as his eyes water more. your heart splinters at the sight. 

“please listen to me, baby. look at me” he makes sure he’s locked his gaze into yours when he says, “i am always here for you. always. i want to hear what you have to say. everything. don’t ever think you can’t come to me. you don’t have to be alone, i promise.” 

leehan kisses your forehead, so softly and sweetly, it prompts your body to shudder. your entire being is overcome by the love it holds for him. 

thank you, universe. 

“thank you” you say quietly, giving him the biggest smile you can muster. both your hands cover his own, your thumbs rubbing the backs of them lightly. “i love you. i promise to come to you. promise i’ll tell you things.” 

a slow smile spreads across his face, and he plants another kiss to your forehead, this time, lingering on the spot. he pulls away and tucks your hair behind your ears.

“let me take care of you, okay? i’ll run you a bath, get you all cleaned up and relaxed. how does that sound, baby?”, he asks eagerly.

your words seemed to have run away at leehan’s compassion, so all you do is nod your head tiredly, giving him a soft smile. 

leehan enters the bathroom with you in his arms, stopping to turn on the light before setting you down on the fluffy rug in the middle of the floor. it feels plush and warm against your socked feet, a comforting change compared to the cool draft in the bedroom. you press yourself further into it, really making sure you’re standing firmly on the ground, planted and unmoving.

he glides over to the bath, twisting the knob to the right so the dial lands right where it’s nearly too hot, just how you like it. the rush of water fills the room, the strong current of the faucet beating against the plastic tub, and again you feel comforted, no longer trapped in your thoughts when pleasant distractions feed all your senses. your eyes study leehan as he feels the water with his fingers, adjusting the dial a few times before turning back to you.

without saying a word, he scoops you into his embrace once more, bringing you to the sink and sitting you down on the edge of the counter. he kisses your cheek tenderly before opening a mirrored cabinet to sift through and bringing out your entire skincare routine, lining up each bottle in their respective order. a bright, warm glow begins to fill your chest. 

he bends down to open up a cupboard, and remerges with a small towel in his hand, then turns on the sink, checking to see if the water is lukewarm. he wets the towel, rings it, then repeats the action. after a few more soaks and rings, he places himself between your legs, then gently presses the towel to your face. 

“close your eyes for me, pretty” he instructs quietly, his voice low and smooth. 

leehan works in a methodical rhythm until every inch of your skin is made damp. his touches are so gentle and filled with love, you feel light-headed. you wonder in awe at how lucky you got with him. that such loving, gentle boy is all yours. a tiny, secret smile pulls the corners of your mouth.

“does that feel good, baby?” he purrs, taking notice of your not-so-secret smile. 

“mm-hm, more than good” you respond, looking up at him softly. he smiles back at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. 

leehan moves carefully as he applies your face wash, rubbing circles on your face firmly but gingerly, then taking the same wet towel to rinse it off. he works in silence whilst massaging every one of your serums and moisturisers into your face, as he’s seen you apply them yourself a million times, slowly and thoughtfully in an effort to relax you. the cold sensation of the creams and his sturdy fingers send shivers down your spine. 

“there we go. all done”. leehan strokes his thumbs over your cheeks one last time, then leans in to kiss your lips. it’s short and sweet, his lips soft and warm. 

the sound of the rushing water must have become white noise to you both, because when you turn your attention to the tub, it’s nearly filled to the brim. leehan goes to shut off the faucet, but not before adding in your favourite soap, swirling the steaming water around with his hand, making a clean, bubbly scent waft through the air. it’s familiar to you, a reassuring sense that helps you attach yourself to the present moment.  you’re here and you’re okay, you soothe to yourself. 

he walks back to you, hooking a strong arm around your back and placing the other under your knees, lifting you off the counter and placing you back on the fluffy rug. 

“let’s take these icky clothes off of you. arms up.” he says quietly, his honey voice nearly humming the words. 

you obey, reaching your arms up in the air, letting him put his hands under your shirt and gently lift it up and over your head. he’s seen you in your bra plenty of times before, but somehow, the intimacy of this moment makes you shy away and cover up. 

“hey…” he looks down at you, a slight twinkle in his eye. he gently pulls your arms away from your chest. “it’s just me, baby” 

“i know…” you respond shyly… “i just…” you trail off, looking down at your feet. 

“don’t worry, love. i can leave to let you undress. just let me know when you’re done.” he goes to leave, but you stop him quickly, grabbing his hand.

“no! no, please stay. i’m just a little overwhelmed…with love, i think. that’s all”, you say to the floor quietly. 

all leehan does is gaze at you fondly, the tiniest giggling leaving his mouth. “okay. i’ll be gentle with you, i promise” he reassures as he reaches his hands out to unclasp your bra.

they’re warm and sturdy, like they always are. the way his fingertips brush against your exposed skin so delicately gives you goosebumps. you didn’t know how it was possible to miss him so much, despite seeing him only this morning, and having him in front of you now, but here you are, longing for him so deeply. 

he undoes the clasp, then hooks his fingers through the straps, gently gliding it down your arms. once it’s off, he gathers it nicely and places it in on the sink, along with your shirt.

his hands continue to brush down your arms, the grazing of his finger tips like a ghost against your skin. he never lets go of your gaze as he kisses down your stomach. you gasp lightly at the way his lips travel down your body so lovingly, as if he was made just to worship you. 

he stops just before the button of your pants, then carefully undoes them, easing the piece of clothing down your legs slowly. you lift each foot out of the holes. 

leehan grabs the back of your calf, lifting it slightly to press a soft kiss to your shin, then takes off your sock. he does the same to your other leg, then folds up your jeans and sets them down near your folded shirt and bra. 

his eyes never leave yours as he runs his fingertips along your collarbone, the soft pads finding your shoulders to rest there. “my beautiful baby,” he coos. “let’s get you washed up.” 

leehan rolls up his long sleeve shirt, cuffing it at the elbows, then as tenderly as he can, he scoops you up and walks you over to the tub. his eyes never leave your face as he lowers you into the hot, bubbly water, careful not to hurt you. 

“how’s the temperature? is it warm enough?” 

“it’s perfect, leehan” you say, because it was. everything about this moment was perfect. 

“good”, he smiles softly. “i’ll be right back, okay?” and then he quietly leaves the bathroom. you rest your back against the side of the tub, leaning your head back on the side. the water is so warm, it feels like it reaches your bones. it melts away your worries like butter, until every evil word you had thought to yourself becomes smudged and muddled, a distant memory. 

you play with the bubbles, scooping up a handful, then blowing it into the air, watching as the sparkly, white clouds float every which way. your heart finally begins to slow down, resuming a normal pace. you’re warm and cradled and safe, all thanks to leehan. you could nearly cry again at his loving actions. how incredibly lucky you were to have him. 

your love returns a few minutes later with a rolled up towel, walking into the separate shower to grab your wash cloth and body wash, then kneels near the tub behind you. he lifts up your head slightly, then pushes the towel underneath as a little makeshift pillow.

you study his upside down face carefully. his cheeks are slightly blushed from the heat of the bath, and the front pieces of his hair are curling slightly from it, too. there’s something so sweet in his eyes — you can’t quite explain it. but it makes you glow on the inside. 

leehan. leehan. leehan. my leehan. 

he beams down at you, stroking your head. “do you need to wash your hair tonight?” he asks, searching your eyes.

you simply shake your head no, too relaxed and soothed to speak. he nods, then takes the wash cloth and dips it in the tub.

he squirts your favourite body wash on it, then begins to rub it in your skin soothingly. the pressure of his strong hands, the warmth of the water, and the slight tingle of the texture of the cloth against your skin overwhelms you with relaxation. 

with each gentle rub, your pain washes away, lost to the mountains of bubbles. your mind goes blank, but not unpleasantly. it’s quiet, but not uncomfortable. at peace, in a way.

for a long time, leehan tends to you. his forearms are soaked, covered in tiny white bubbles, some even reaching up his cuffed sleeve. he holds every part of you so tenderly, as if you were the most precious being he’ll ever know. he’s careful to wash off any excess icky-ness of the day, humming lowly as he does. 

his fingers begin to prune, as do yours, and the bubbles begin to subside. he cups his hands in the water and uses it to wash off any leftover soap still stuck to your skin. you’ve passed the state of relaxation now, completely lost in bliss from leehan’s caresses.

as you hug your knees to your chest, he tells you to lift your head up off the little towel. two strong hands grip your shoulders, massaging them lazily. his hands rub the tense muscles for a few minutes, sending tingling sensations down your spine. 

“love you so much, darling. so so much” he purrs into your ear softly before letting his warm lips trail down your neck. he reaches one hand across your face to cup your cheek, turning your head ever so slightly. his fingers slide to rest under your chin, and he slowly lifts your head up so you’re looking right in his eyes. 

“you’re everything to me, yn. everything” he says, then presses his mouth to yours softly. he deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. you let him in, allowing your tongue to tangle with his. he lingers in your mouth for a while, languidly tasting you over and over again. he finally breaks away, his cheeks slightly flushed. 

your own cheeks are blushed as well, your breath stuck in your throat slightly, in awe of the kiss. 

leehan uses his thumbs to guide your eyelids closed to press feather-light kisses to each one, then he wanders all over your face, not letting any inch of skin go un-kissed. one last time, his lips finds yours again. 

you look up at him sleepily, so relaxed and soothed, you could fall asleep right there. the harsh cold and sadness of before long gone. he notices your sleepiness. 

“ready for bed, my love?” 

“mm-hmm” you hum in response, your lids fluttering closed as you let him scoop you out of the tub and stand you up carefully. he quickly gets your robe off of its hook, then wraps it around your body, guiding each of your arms through the sleeves. he snugs it around you as tight as possible before tying the strap around your waist. he goes to empty the tub, the water beginning to drain with a large gurgle. 

leehan turns you around by the shoulders, guiding you to the closet so you can get dressed in your pyjamas. you stand in the middle of the closet, studying your boyfriend as he contently sifts through your drawers, trying to find your comfiest set of pyjamas.

“ah—these ones! these are so cute, baby. and they’re nice and warm. what do you think, hm?” he turns to look at you with sparkling eyes, a hint of playfulness in them. 

“yeah, those will work leehan” you let out a breathy laugh, completely amused by the fact that leehan thought these pyjamas are cute, all pink and adorned with hearts. 

he goes to unwrap your robe and delicately slide it off of you, letting it pool at your feet. the sudden cold air makes you cover yourself, prompting leehan to coo and hastily bring your pyjama top over your head.

“here, baby”, he says softly. the warm fabric gives you immediate relief, eliciting a sigh out of you. he bends down to put on the fluffy pants, gently holding your the back of your calves as he does so. you help him bring them up all the way, to which leehan lifts your top slightly to plant a sneaky kiss to your stomach. 

“hey!” you giggle. “that tickles” 

he smiles up at you sweetly, his fluffy brown hair covering his pretty eyes. “oh!” he perks up suddenly.  “i forgot your socks!” he exclaims, jumping to his feet to go through your sock drawer. he grabs the warmest, fluffiest pair he can find. 

once he’s put them on your feet, he wastes no time in scooping you up in his arms for the nth time that night. he walks you to the bed, switching off the bathroom light on his way out. even though it’s a brief walk, you snuggle up to him close, your head finding the crook of his neck to rest in. you place a soft kiss to the area of skin, then another, and another, until you’ve placed as many as you can before he sets you down gently. 

he adjusts the covers so you can cuddle up underneath them, and you slide your body under them and snuggle up as much as possible, making yourself cozy. 

leehan pulls the covers up to your chin, tucking in the rest around around body, making sure you’re as warm as can be. he sits down next to you, taking your hands in his. after a moment, he speaks.

“you should eat something warm. how about some soup?” he asks. 

“that sounds lovely”, you say quietly, “thank you, leehanie. for…for everything”, squeezing his hand to punctuate the words. 

“it’s what i’m here for, darling.” he stands, then gives you a quick peck on your forehead, then leaves as he says “i’ll be back soon”

my leehan. you think as you watch him go. your eyes stay trained on the door way, your ears listening to the soft chinks of the dishes and the quiet closing of cupboards, and the occasional crinkle of a packet.

you wait patiently for your love. thanking the stars a million times over for him. how lucky you were for them to align just so, allowing you to be together.

just a couple hours ago, you were laying in this same spot, curled up into a sad, miserable ball, sobbing at how cruel your mind and the world was. you had wanted nothing more than the bed to swallow you whole. 

but then, he came home to you. and here you are now, underneath toasty covers, and you felt alright. you were comforted and relaxed, but most importantly, you were loved.

you lay in silence for a few long minutes, the occasional drip of the faucet hitting the bottom of the tub floating through the room. you trace random shapes with your eyes on the ceiling. just as your finishing tracing a heart, leehan walks in with a warm bowl of soup, soft swirls of steaming from it into the air. 

“it’s still a little hot but it shouldn’t take long to cool down” he says, placing the bowl on the nightstand next to you. he gives it a few stirs with the spoon, then turns his attention back to you. he smiles softly as he sits down next to you, fiddling the with warm duvet to snuggle you up more. 

he takes the bowl of comfort food in his hands with the towel. “open up” leehan lifts the spoon to your lips, then slowly tips it so you can swallow the warm liquid. 

“is it good?” he asks hopefully. 

“mm-hmm, it’s lovely. feels good to eat something warm” you respond sleepily, opening your mouth again as another spoonful comes towards you.

leehan feeds you lovingly in the perfect, comfortable quiet that envelopes you two. he makes sure you’ve eaten it all, until the bowl is just barely streaked with soup. when the spoon stops being useful, he brings the bowl to your lips and holds the back of your head gently as you drink up the rest. 

“i’ll go wash up the dishes. it’s not much, but if you feel like you need to sleep, don’t wait up for me, okay? rest. i love you, baby”. he kisses off an excess spot of soup at the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to your forehead.

“i love you” you tell him softly.

you watch him go with heavy eyelids and a warm, full belly. 

you don’t fall asleep just yet, even though you feel sleep tugging at your brain and body. you nearly drift off, but jerk yourself awake. you wanted to wait for leehan.

he was so wonderful to you today, so caring and compassionate. your heart squeezes as your mind recounts the details of the night. every little moment of leehan caring for you making a content smile tug at your lips. 

by the time he comes back into the room, your eyes are barely able to stay open.

“you’re still awake? you didn’t have to wait for me, yn.” he offers you a sweet smile as he brushes a strand of hair away from your eyes. 

“i know, i wanted to though. i want some cuddles” you say gently.

“you’re gonna get lots of cuddles, i promise.” you feel leehan’s weight dip the bed as he climbs in next to you.

before he can say anything else, you decide to speak. “i’m sorry, leehan. i was such a mess today”, you say quietly, fiddling with the top of the covers. 

“baby, wha-what?”, a sudden look of concern paints his face, his eyebrows quirking up in confusion.

his eyes look at you sadly. “what do you have to be sorry for?” he breathes out, his hand cupping your cheek softly, his thumb making soothing strokes. 

“i-i just…” your words get caught in your throat, and you feel the prickle of tears behind your eyes. a sob threatens to leave you, so you take a deep breath before speaking again. 

“i just dumped so much on you, you know? out of nowhere. you came home and there i was, a complete sobbing mess. just dumping so much of emotions onto you, with no warning. i didn’t even ask you about your day. i’m sorry you had to see me that way…i’m such a burden”. the well-known dark feeling enters your chest again, the rampant monster in your mind waiting to pounce. 

“oh, angel” he sighs. leehan takes his hand off your cheek to grab one of yours, holding it so tightly, you wonder if he thinks you’ll slip away if he let go. 

he brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly. 

he studies you earnestly. “don’t ever be sorry for being open with me. you’re not a bother. you’re the furthest thing from it. it’s okay if you were a mess. i’m a mess sometimes. and when i am, you’re always there to care for me. why wouldn’t i do the same for you?” he pauses briefly, as if to make sure he doesn’t cry.

“it breaks my heart to know you feel the way you do, yn. you deserve the whole world” his voice cracks slightly at the end. leehan says the words with so much fervor and love, you want to believe him, so badly, but your mind continues to build blocks. you hate yourself for it, and he sees it written on your face.

“please hear me when i say this, my love” he squeezes your hand tight, bringing it to his heart. “i promise you’re good enough. i know you feel small sometimes. but please believe me when i say you are good enough. you work so so hard, and you’re so talented. i see how much you sacrifice to do well. you’re kind and thoughtful and smart. and really, really gorgeous…” he trails off, letting out a breathy laugh. his eyes begin to twinkle.

“you still make my heart race, y’know that? every time i look at you, it goes crazy. just for you and only you…i know i’m not the best with words, but, i really do love you. and you mean everything to me. i don’t need or want you to be perfect or put-together all the time. i want to see all the parts to you.  don’t be sorry for your feelings, please. and don’t be afraid to come to me, alright? nothing about you is ever too much for me, angel. there’s no such thing.” 

you quite literally feel like you could burst into a million pieces at that very moment. no one has or will ever make you feel as loved as leehan. the world would have to end before you even tried to figure that out. you really try to hear him, try to cement the words into your heart, to will away the dark thoughts. they might not disappear entirely, but you had leehan. your sweet leehan, who would never let you go through it alone. 

a few tears have made their way down your cheeks again, and his. he places your hand down gently, then leans down to kiss away your tears. he takes his time, slowly licking up the salty trails. he cups your face, stroking your reddened cheeks soothingly. he kisses every part of your face until there’s no part of skin that hasn’t been touched. 

you take his face in your hands, brushing away stray pieces of hair from his eyes. “my leehan”, you dote, “i love you so much. what would i do without you?”

he brings his lips to yours, softly at first. the kiss is light, barely a touch. he pulls away, just for a moment, to look into your eyes. he kisses you again, but deeper this time, a way for you to say i love you better than his words could tell. it’s passionate and intimate and vulnerable, and it tastes of your salty tears and his vanilla chapstick. your stray fingers tug at his hair slightly, pressing him closer to you. it’s a thank you kiss. an i love you kiss. a kiss that says i’ll never leave you.

after a few moments, he slowly breaks away from you. your eyes still closed. carefully, they flutter open to see a dazed, dreamy-eyed leehan and with every fiber of his being, with every piece of his heart, he says, “i love you, yn. i’ll love you forever”

taglist — @whyilovewhales-pdf @uriwoos2

[megameatymatt]

Die For Me - Matt Sturniolo

Toxic Fwb Stoner!Matt X Reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N are fwb ( friends with benefits), But what if Y/N wants more?

slightly proof read

WARNINGS: smut, toxic, soft!dom matt, mentions of alcohol, drugs, and weed, overthinking??? angst??

requested?: nope

word count: 801

A/N: I apologize in advance, Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! stay slutty ok bye💋

Y/n - Pink

Matt- blue

"Pull up, baby, I need you to slide for me You know how I love it when you ride on me"

9:15

You shuffle through your makeup drawer preparing for a date with a guy you met a few weeks ago. The air was filled with the scent of your perfume and the soft hum of your favourite playlist. As you apply your mascara your phone buzzes with a new message from Matt.

It read: 

"Hey Y/N can u come over I miss you"

"Chris and Nick aren't home.."

"pretty please"

You pause, your fingers hovering over the screen. You know the routine with Matt—hang out, get high,  then fuck. It’s always been straightforward, but lately, your feelings have grown more complicated. You love him in a way that goes beyond just fun and games, and it’s starting to hurt.

You text back:

"I’m actually getting ready for a date rn. I’m not sure..."

Matt’s response was fast, almost too fast:

"Please baby, we can make it quick"

"please I fucking need you"

You’ve been here before, caught between wanting to protect yourself and the irresistible urge to be near Matt. You can’t ignore the fact that you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak if you go through with this. You want more from him, but he’s always been clear about not wanting anything serious.

A sigh escapes your lips as you consider your choices. The date tonight could turn into something special, But the lure of Matt and the hope that he might feel the same way you do is hard to ignore.

With a heavy heart, you decide to respond:

"be there in 10"

"i love you"

Your stomach fills with butterflies.

You decided to take the long way to his house. The drive was like a distraction, a temporary escape from the gnawing sadness of your situation. You even tried blasting music as loud as you possibly could, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Matt. You knew you'd end up in his bed, and you weren't mad. But you felt stuck

9:45

He greets you with his usual easy smile and a warm hug, and you both slip into his bedroom. "Want a puff?" He says holding the blunt in front of you. "I'm good. I've actually been trying to quit"

He nods and turns his music down. before laying down on his bed beside you. "I missed you so much Y/N". You hated how your stomach flipped and spun every time he was near you. You turn your head and smile "I've missed you more matt." He's already buzzed, He's more giddy than usual. He still has a smile on his face while his eyes shoot from your eyes and your lips over and over again. 

"You're the prettiest girl i've ever met" He says staring into your eyes. "I love you." It's now you realize he's been drinking as well, you smell it in his breath, and there's a bottle of tequila on his nightstand. 

You hated how you loved him but before you knew it, your body flew on top of him as your lips connected. 

He quickly undresses you and pulls down your shorts. Your hands travel every inch of his body as he places hickeys down from your neck to your tits. 

"Y/N" He moans, "I need you, Fuck, you make me crazy".  "Ride me baby" And without a second thought you align his dick with your pussy and start moving.

"Fuck matt!" You squeal as Matt starts thrusting into you. Tears fall from the outer corners of your eyes as you dig your nails deep into his shoulders

"Matt" You whine "i know baby, i know. just take it f'me okay?" He moans as his fingers dig into your hips. It feels like pure ecstasy, But just like ecstasy, it's addictive. It'll be the death of you two one day, But right now it's bliss.

10:40

"I'm close Matt, so close'' You choke out. "Cum f'me baby " That's all he needed to say as you release all over his cock. He came shortly after And you collapse on his chest. 

a familiar mix of pleasure and sadness wash over you. You love these moments, the closeness and the connection, but the underlying feelings you had for him felt like a knife to the heart.

You rest your head on his shoulder as his fingers comb through your hair."You were so good for me baby" He says. His voice is deep and raspy. "i love you"

You knew you shouldn't take it seriously, it only translates to: "I love when you give in and we fuck" But it still made you smile. But instead of saying it back you try and ignore it knowing he probably didn't mean it, and he probably never will

Taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[charliemwrites]

Simon’s so calm with Feral it's actually scary. Like I'm reading each little interaction and I get scared waiting for him to finally snap but HE NEVER DOES.

what if he comes home stressed from a mission, and he is just absolutely not in the mood for Feral’s gremlin-ness and he says/does something he might regret the next morning?

Hi, I glad that that tension is there and that their dynamic doesn’t get too repetitive. This probably isn’t as dramatic as your were hoping for….? But I hope you enjoy it regardless!!

Simon has been gone for a week. Not the longest by far - you didn’t even need a babysitter this time - but long enough that you’ve missed him. He gets home late, very late. You’ve been staying up waiting, excited to greet him.

When he shuffles in the door, you don’t even wait for him to set his bag down. You nearly knock him into the front door climbing up him, chattering about what you’ve been up to while he’s away, and he’s home late how could he, and there’s so many things that need doing!

He’s favoring one leg but supports your weight, gently tries to shush you while you nip and babble at him. He’s missed you, really he has. But the mission was long and frustrating, the debrief even more so, and he’s already beyond aggravated that he’s late coming home to you. It doesn’t help that you’re fussing at him for keeping you awake when he’s told you repeatedly to go to bed before 23:00.

“Enough,” he snaps finally. “Give me a minute to breathe, would you? I’m barely in the door.”

You stop, a scowl already twisting your face.

“If you’re just going to be a brat, go to bed. I’ll deal with it in the morning.”

And ooooh that is not the thing to say. You drop off him instantly, face going cold.

“Fine. Welcome home, Simon.”

And your turn and stomp away to bed. He sighs, though the regret doesn’t set in immediately. He’s still annoyed about everything and feels justified in losing his patience just a little with you, just this once.

He showers off, cools his temper, and realizes that he shouldn’t have let his annoyance slip with you. It’s not your fault that he’s tired and other people are stupid. You greeted him the way you always do; couldn’t have known what state he’s in.

He approaches your room with every intention of apologizing but hesitates when he sees the light off. Maybe you’re asleep? It is pretty late for you.

And then he hears you sniffle. Fuck.

He feels instantly like shit, like his father.

“Pretty?” He calls gently. “Still awake?”

The little mountain of blanket shifts. “Shouldn’t you be… resting or whatever?” you reply, voice thick.

“Couldn’t go to bed without saying goodnight.”

“Good night.” You’re putting on a brave voice but he can hear the tremor in it. He hesitates a moment.

“Would you be willing to come down?” he ventures.

“What for?” You huff. “Aren’t I too much right now?”

His chest hurts. “You’re never too much for me, little one. I shouldn’t have made it seem like you were. I don’t think I can sleep without you, actually. I’m not enough in my own.”

You peek out from beneath the covers, eyes puffy and red-rimmed. “Promise?”

“Yeah, love, I promise. Would you sleep with me tonight.”

You climb down and burrow against his chest, let him wipe away the last of the tears and even accepts the sharp bite he gets to his hand.

“Am I a brat?” you ask, voice small.

He chuckles and smooths a hand through your hair. “Maybe, but you’re perfect that way.”

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Twenty-Two

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2,055

Themes; isekai, slowburn (eventual smut), canon divergence

Rating; swearing and mature themes

Notes; Hey guys! A little late on the update, but I finally got around to finishing 22! I'd say half of 23 is gonna be Foreseer Zayne and then we're onto Lightseeker Xavier (I know the Zayne chapters have went on for a long while, but I haven't written much for Zayne so...This is for the Zayne Biased <3). I'm sorry I can't rush and have them back to the current timeline just yet, but I'll try to keep it short and sweet.

I'm also working on a few things for Divisa! So I'll probably be up late tonight, unfortunately for me.

prev || next

☆ Masterlist ☆

The moon masks the sun, and only a golden ring remains. A beam of light strikes the Creatio protocore. Light reflects off of it, forming chaos and patterns of disorder, which is brought into the hands of the Foreseer.

Ancient symbols gradually appear as he pieces together a puzzle. Astra’s will has presented itself, and the Foreseer’s indifferent facade reveals a hint of indignation as he too is imprisoned by the prophecy. Astra has spoken.

Those who defy fate are sinners and shall be punished by Him.

When you finally open your eyes, you find yourself lying on the floor of your room. Moonlight cascades onto the empty bed. You only recall being overwhelmed by a strange feeling at dawn…Were you unconscious for the whole day?

You look in the mirror and realize…the marks have already reached your neck. Your clothes will no longer be able to hide them now.

If you take the Creatio protocore…will the Foreseer still be Zayne? And if he isn’t the Foreseer, he’s doomed to be trapped in the Tower forever. Doesn’t that make him a prisoner? You don’t want to hurt Zayne, but…You can’t die like this.

What if you told Zayne the true extent of your illness..?

You enter the library and ice appears in front of you, forming an arc. “Good morning, Jas…Is the Foreseer here?”

The phantasm sways from left to right.

“So he isn’t… You and the Foreseer dislike lies. Would he ever forgive someone who has lied to him?”

Jas sways in an agitated manner.

“Of course..” You say with a sigh, “He won’t forgive me then.”

Jas hears sorrow in your voice, and a platform of ice appears under your feet, lifting you up. More ice appears, shimmering and glittering.

It’s trying to comfort you.

You can’t help the sad smile that ghosts across your lips nor the tears that mist your eyes. “Thank you, Jas.”

You sit on the ice, traveling between the endless rows of shelves. Has Zayne read all of the books here?

“I wonder what the Foreseer does when he’s upset. Then again, he might just scowl regardless of his mood.”

As you mumble to yourself, it suddenly begins to snow. You’re in awe, watching snow descend like flower petals dancing in the wind. A few snowflakes fall onto your hand. They sparkle like crystals and do not melt.

“What are they?” You murmur, running your thumb across the snow in your palm.

“Were you not the one asking about what I do when I’m upset?” You hear a calm voice from below. You sit on the floating platform as Zayne stands at the door, looking up at you. 

“So it is possible. Was the prophecy not to your liking?”

“It matters not. Only a true envoy of the king can deliver it.” You stay silent at that, pursing your lips.

It seems he still hasn’t let that go…

”You are mocking me again. You aren’t upset then.” Zayne lifts a finger and the ice carries you down to him. He looks you in the eye.

“And you? What do you do?”

“I…” You think of the flowers you planted in the past as they sway in the breeze. “I dance.”

“I thought humans only dance when they are happy.” 

“Not all of them. The more upset I am, the more I try to move around.” 

You hear Zayne audibly sigh before he glances at you, then holds out his hand. “May I?”

 “...Are you requesting a dance? Here?” A small laugh of disbelief slips from your lips, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“We will both feel better if we dance under the snow.”

You hesitantly look at Zayne. His expression is reminiscent of a merciless blizzard as per usual.

“Would you prefer we do something else?” 

“We can dance.” The warmth of Zayne’s hand spreads from your fingers to the rest of your body. In the Tower’s library, you waltz. Snowflakes gently flutter about, and you step on the jasmine-shaped ice. 

Everything has led to this precious moment. You gaze into each other’s eyes, your hands touching, your steps synchronized.

“You’ve lived here by yourself since the beginning so…who taught you how to dance? This can’t be your first time.” You question and Zayne looks away for a moment, “Perhaps my body still remembers the motions from the past.”

“...Are you referring to your other lives?” Your tone was softer than usual, almost matching the slight change in tone that the Foreseer also carried.

 “The Foreseer cannot truly die, so your description isn’t right.” Zayne looks at you, but it feels like he’s gazing into a time long gone.

“What is it like to remember things from another era?” This was a question you could get behind.

Especially since you were currently remembering things from a time forgotten. 

“It is no different than being in a never-ending snowstorm.” You watch Zayne, the lonesome air surrounding him. Though you are in the same room, moving to the same rhythm, he is a dreamer whose dream may soon come to an end.

However, you felt the same way. This dream of yours was bound to end soon and you’d find yourself in yet another one soon after.

You squeeze his hand. “If the snowfall is eternal, find someone to dance with you. At the very least, the two of you will be happy.” Zayne’s gaze sweeps across you like a feather brushing across your cheek.

“You don’t seem to be upset anymore.” His voice was barely above a whisper and you cheekily reply, “Our dance would be better with some music.”

Following the rhythm of your steps, you start to hum. Your voice echoes within the library.

“You…always hum this melody when watering the jasmine.” He notes, avoiding your gaze. “So you’ve noticed…”

“Will you sing for me?”

“To the afterglow cries cosmic demise. Our world in deceptive amber paradise.

In these sands of time. My frozen bouquet awaits.

With your gaze so full of wonder, I hold four jasmines asunder. His secrets revealed.

Hark the bard, ‘O legends unfold. This distant tale they sing to you. Unspoken desires, sincere and true.

A jasmine in time’s embrace. A fragrant aria, a moment’s grace.”

○o。.

.。o○

Zayne…couldn’t recall the first time the jasmine appeared. Ever since he took upon the mantle of Foreseer, the Tower of Thorns had always been home to the jasmine that never bloomed.

It is like a riddle waiting to be solved, or maybe it’s a metaphor for his fragmented memories. The jasmine’s existence is an unremovable thorn— a reminder of his past, or his failure to remember who he is.

Zayne dreams the same dream. It is one he has dreamt of many, many times. He kisses the jasmine bud, and then his entire being sinks into darkness.

“Zayne. Zayne.”

Yet he hears her, her voice cutting through the shadows.

Why does her voice sound as if it’s from the jasmine itself and from the distant past?

Zayne waits for the darkness to swallow him once more, yet when he opens his eyes, the jasmine he kissed in his dreams has turned into the face of a girl. 

A girl he knows all too well.

○o。.

.。o○

“Zayne…Zayne?”

You frantically knock on Zayne’s door, time passing by ever so slowly before he finally opens it. He appears to have just woken up, his eyes hazy with sleep.

“I thought you were normally awake at this hour?” You question, one hand on your hip.

Though, Zayne doesn’t respond. Instead, he only looks at you…as if you were a stranger.

“Ah…Nevermind. Follow me!” Brimming with excitement, you grab his sleeve and you’re surprised he lets himself be dragged out of his bedchamber.

You’re trying to keep your pace slow since Zayne had just woken up, but you were too excited. You bring him to the top of the Tower.

In the joyous glow of the sun, the jasmine’s trembling petals unfurl one after another.

“Zayne, look! The jasmine has bloomed!” You quickly turn to face him, wanting to see his expression﹘curious about his reaction. His eyes hold a burning spark as he looks at you.

“I…What?” You let out a nervous laugh as you rub the back of your neck. “Haven’t you been looking forward to this?”

However, Zayne is still silent. He lowers his gaze, suppressing the light in his eyes. It seems he’s looking at the jasmine and…you.

“...At last.”

“So? Am I not a skilled gardener?” 

“You were late.”

“Huh?” You shake your head with a small smile on your lips. “When not a single blade of grass grows here but a strange jasmine, you don’t need a gardener.”

“Hence why it only bloomed in your presence.” 

Zayne was…being strangely nice today. He also appeared to be much happier than before. You wonder what he dreamt about that would make him feel less cold than before.

“...Don’t shower me with praise. Now you’re making it sound like this was bound to happen.” You clear your throat and step closer to the jasmine, fingertips brushing against the soft, fragile petals.

Deep in thought, Zayne continued to stare at you. “Have…I offended you again?” You tilt your head to the side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His gaze shifts to your hand still holding his sleeve.

Huh…You must’ve forgotten to let go.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was too excited.” As you let go, Zayne grabs your hand.

“This is not a mere coincidence.”

“...What?” You’re not exactly sure what to make of Zayne’s words. You gaze drifting down to your hand encased in Zayne’s much larger one.

“You are not the first to step foot in the Tower of Thorns. No one has been able to make the jasmine bloom. Only you have succeeded.”

Something…about his voice makes your heart beat more quickly. An unfamiliar emotion spreads through your chest.

“What is it? You’re not acting like your usual self…” He’s acting slightly like Doctor Zayne– your Zayne.

“You’re right.” Zayne hesitates to continue, an indescribable emotion flooding his eyes.

“Allow me to take you to another place.”

“To where? You said I could leave once the jasmine blooms, did you not?”

Ouch, it feels a bit rude to bring up leaving right as an unemotional man starts acting emotional but…Sure, let’s go with that.

“Do you want to leave now?”

No.

“I…”

Do you?

Do you want to steal the Creatio Protocore, make Zayne lose his power, and leave him imprisoned in the Tower forevermore?

No…You don’t want him to be “perpetually frozen” anymore. But…you’ll die, won’t you? Without the Creatio Protocore…

☆ミ

You never expected Zayne to take you to the field of jasmines in Philos: Floral Inquiry. Under the warm sunlight, you walk amongst the seemingly never-ending sea of flowers.

“Zayne?” You question as you walk side by side and he turns to face you. The expression on his face is familiar yet unfamiliar. It’s unfamiliar because of how different the Foreseer and you are— the distance between you a chasm.

But…The current him reminds you of that wraith and of your Zayne.

You don’t understand…Is the person in front of you real or an illusion?

“Why did you bring me here, Zayne?” You were at a loss. You weren’t sure how this dream was going to end, feeling like it’s been going on for forever at this point.

You really thought it would be wrapped up by now…but surely all of the angst and sadness is done, right?

Zayne’s eyes shimmer like a lake on a midsummer’s day. “I wish to confirm something.”

His words give you little to interpret so, instead, you repeat to him, “...What is there to confirm?”

He suddenly cups your cheek, seemingly losing himself in your eyes. His gaze shines bright. Your heart begins racing, violently thundering in your chest.

What…is he doing?

“That…I won’t lose you again.”

…Huh?

…Again?

Then, a suffocating indigo is all you see. The blinding light consumes your vision while your heart feels like it’s being crushed. Your hand clutches at your chest and you catch a glimpse of Zayne’s panicked expression before you faint.

The Cryoriais.

That damned icy disease. 

I barely did any proofreading so if there's any misspellings or skipped words, I apologize 😭 i just wanted to get this chapter out bc i felt bad for missing Friday. Anyways! I'm leaving to go type up a few more chapters. <3

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog , @shypotatoes013-blog

[ethereal-engene]

promise you | donghyuck

pairing: bf!haechan x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, and comfort  // warnings: mentions of death threats & cuss words

summary: The first and last time your boyfriend answers a call from a sasaeng who keeps calling your phone. // word count: 1695

note: I am in my delulu era per usual and apparently he said this once and ... this is my take on it "Ah, you really don't know when you should be scared. I'm going to sue you. I'm going to hang up."

Honestly there are a few things that one can expect when they’re dating a k-pop idol. However, nothing could have ever prepared you for dealing with your boyfriend sasaengs.

It was a big deal too because he didn’t want you getting hurt because of them since he knew he had many of them. It’s too bad that he couldn’t control them but he tried his best to keep them from you. Nonetheless, the extent to which some sasaengs were willing to go were farther than his power and influence could reach.

This just so happened to be another incident where he wasn’t able to protect you from it. A couple weeks ago, you kept on getting text messages from an unknown number. As one would do in this situation, you blocked them but of course they would just have another number to text you with.

These messages at first didn’t seem like much until they escalated with messages of threatening to kill you and to stay away from Hyuck. You still ignored a good chunk of them even if they did make your heart rate go crazy. To be fair, if they were serious about this, they would have already done it.

You would have brought it up to your boyfriend but you slightly felt bad to have tell him about it since you knew he would feel bad about you being hurt. When in reality, he shouldn’t be sorry and if they were his true fans then they would be happy for him. It’s just the unfortunate nature and conditions that come with dating an idol. Plus, the bare minimum here would also be fans respecting their idol’s privacy.

Even though you had not brought this up to your boyfriend, he definitely picked up on how your phone notifications would go off more than usual these past few weeks. You brush it off as it’s just your friend texting you about the drama happening at work.

But we both know that’s a lie and haechan knows one when he hears one. Especially when you sometimes pick up your phone and a small wince or sigh leaves your mouth as you read what’s on the screen. He decides to leave it alone for now because he believes that you will eventually tell him.

One night when you’re staying over with him at the dorms, you’re chilling on his bed as he plays. Your phone starts to ring and you forgot to take a look at the contact number before picking it up.

“Hello?” You ask. Haechan hears you on the phone so he tries to make less noise, but he also quiets down to hear who might be calling you this late into the night.

“Bitch, if you don’t leave Haechan tonight, I will literally kill you tomorrow so you will never see him again. I’ve told you multiple times to leave him but you still haven’t. This isn’t a threat, it’s a promise. Now take your things and go. And as always. Do. Not. Tell. Him.” The voice responds and you end the phone call. You quickly block this number and try to make your heart stop racing so fast.

Placing your hand over your heart and attempting to pace your breathing. Haechan can hear your slightly heavy breathing. His eyes leave the screen to look at you. You are clearly not in the best condition as you were a few moments ago.

“Jeno-ya, I’ll be gone for a few minutes. Make sure I don’t get killed this round, I’ve gotta go check on my girl.” As soon as he says that, he rushes to the bed where you are.

“Hey baby? I’m right here and if you don’t mind me asking, who called you earlier?” Haechan’s hands search for yours and when he feels them, he squeezes them to let you know he’s there.

Shaking your head left and right to let him know it was no one, he frees up one hand to tilt your head so you’re only looking at him. When he does it, he sees that your pupils are dilated. His immediate reaction is to figure out what the hell happened and how to comfort you.

No one in the world should ever make you feel this way. Haechan brings your figure closer to his. Wrapping you up in his arms and giving you small kisses. “Baby, I’ve got you. I am begging you to tell me who called you and what did they say? And don’t try to lie. You’re a really bad liar ya know?”

You’re too scared to tell him now because of how he’ll react. Scared to hear him tell you about how you’re supposed to go and tell him about these things because you’re in danger. Scared to hear him tell you that you shouldn’t have kept this a secret for so long. Scared to hear him tell you that this is all of his fault and that he doesn’t deserve you.

Silence fills the air. It starts to feel so stuffy and you want to escape it so badly. But he won’t let you go until you tell him. Right before, he’s about to say something else; the phone rings again. You’re quick to end the call before he gets a chance to see it.

But the phone just keeps on ringing and ringing after you click the decline button. With the way you react to decline the call quickly and your phone lights up with more messages. Haechan’s eyes skim over them and he pieces together what’s been going on.

You might have a death grip on your phone but you forget that Hyuck’s strength heightens when he’s frustrated like right now. The next time, they call. He snatches it before you can even try to grab it back.

“Oh, so glad you learned your lesson and picked up the phone again you bitch. Now as I said, if you don’t leave Haechan tonight. I will kill you. If you think I’m kidding, I’m really not. I have everything ready for you. Your choice.”

Haechan removes you from him in the best way he can without hurting you. Along with holding you back as you continue to try to get the phone back, even though you know you can’t win. All he sees is red but he composes himself to answer back.

“I’m not sure who you’re calling bitch unless you’re talking about yourself. If you know what’s good for you. You should stop contacting this number.” A laugh is heard in the background of the call on the other side.

“Oh my god Haechan!! I didn’t know that you were going to pick up. I’m so sorry but your girlfriend deserves to die because she’s not good enough for you.”

A ‘tsk’ leaves his mouth and continues with "Ah, you really don't know when you should be scared. I'm going to sue you. I'm going to hang up." And with that, he ends the call.

A long huff and puff is heard from him. He’s going through so many emotions right now. You look at him in the eyes and wonder what he’s thinking about saying next.

“I’m sorry, hyuck. I’m sorry for not telling you about this earlier. I don’t want you to blame yourself for this and please don’t hate me or yourself because of this.” You can’t help but start to let it all out. It would be a big lie to say that all of this wasn’t scary to deal with and it wasn’t painful.

Some of their comments were as if your insecurities started to come to life and taunting you about not being good enough or worse. You tilt your head down to look at the floor because you’re too embarrassed to look at him right now. Your eyes are all puffy and your nose is starting to leak.

After a few minutes of rubbing your eyes dry on your shirt and snot with a tissue away, he finally says something. At first, it’s not you. It's to Jeno telling him that something happened and he’s done for tonight.

Then he walks over to you and cups your face with his hands. Wiping away the falling and dried tears from your eyes. They’re bloodshot red and his heart hurts all over again.

He just keeps eye contact with you with his hands cupping your face. Haechan can’t help but laugh a little at your face when it’s all squished like this. “Y/n-ie. You are the love of my life. Without a doubt, you are one of the many people in my life that I love so much and couldn’t live life without”, Planting a forehead kiss and making sure that you’re still looking at him.

“I am not going to lie and say that you I’m not a tad bit angry or upset that you didn’t tell me about this. Because frankly, I am because it involves your safety and wellbeing.” You nod in agreement.

”You are right about me somewhat blaming myself for this. You are not responsible for my feelings and neither am I responsible for yours. From the bottom of my heart, I am truly sorry you had to go through this alone but I promise you that I’ll always be there. God forbid this ever happen again but if it does. Please tell me so I can do my best to make you feel safe and loved again. I promise.” Haechan finally un-cups your face to hold you in his arms. You whisper another apology and I love you too as you take in his warmth & comfort.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re one strong woman and I couldn’t be happier to call you mine. Just remember that you don’t have to be strong all of the time.”

You two fall asleep afterwards and the next day involves him getting you a new phone number along with the paperwork required to file a lawsuit. When all that is said and done, this phone call remains the first and last time he ever picks up a call from a sasaeng on your phone.

... another fic I’ll probably re-visit b/c this could be longer but for now, enjoy this! man, the # of sasaengs he has is 😔 

as always please do give me feedback by reblogging this with your thoughts in the tag or leaving a note or even dming/sending an ask. it’s all that I ask for. please take care until next time

signing off

- ash 

[hcneygemini]

𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 sentence starters.

lyrics from rachel bochner's EP lovergirl. some lyrics have been adjusted to make them more suited to rp. feel free to combine, shorten, and edit phrasing as needed. do not add to this post or claim as your own. tw: suggestive themes.

angel numbers

slow it down, everything's fine.

fear of dying doesn't count.

we're connecting all the dots.

we're placing bets.

are we there yet?

is heaven real and does it matter?

i can't tell.

you kiss my shoulder when you think i'm sleeping.

a wish on birthday candles is the only secret i'm keeping.

you're my longest friend.

brooklyn

it's getting late, baby

we both got different places that we should be.

i might sound crazy.

i need an excuse to get a little bit closer to you.

i know you kinda want me to.

offer me a tour of your place.

what's my tarot reading have to say?

oh, i should stay?

it's 3AM in Brooklyn.

i'm seeing red.

i heard you the first time but, like, say it again.

say it again.

i understand this magnetic recklessness might bleed me dry.

i would do it again.

i can play it cool, baby.

i'm not the only one you wanted here in the crowd.

we make the rules lately.

i don't mind waiting until it all winds down.

if you're looking for plans, i know the city like the back of my hand.

anticipation's fun—let's wait a little more.

groupie

if it takes one to know one, then i think you've it, babe.

i think you've got it made.

i know it feels good when they're so obsessed.

it's written in the stars, it just hasn't happened yet.

it's hasn't, but it will.

the spotlight feels so good.

i never thought i'd want to share it.

one look at you and i'm like everybody else who's staring.

i like acclaim, but i love the way you turn the city into a stage.

i always saw myself in the starring role.

baby, for you i'm flexible.

i love the way you do it to me.

you take the spotlight, i'll be the groupie.

you're a primadonna girl.

i'm front row for the show.

you already know.

bright lights feel so good when i'm standing out in the open.

i could meet you in the green room when the curtains close.

put my name on the guest list.

okay, you have my attention.

creative liberties

okay, it was fun at first.

i've been wanting you so bad until it hurts.

i know that's how you like it.

i'm in the dirt.

i'm home alone, catastrophizing the worst.

i know so damn well that i'd cave and be yours if you just said the word.

i can't stop thinking of you.

i know you're probably thinking of somebody else.

i fell in too deep.

i took some liberties in stories of you that i tell myself.

i'm not crazy, i know it's fiction.

i've got you where i want you in my head.

i can fill the blanks in, words that you're not saying.

you need me.

you want to be more than friends.

you can't stop thinking about me.

it's probably only what i'll tell myself.

it's the truth, but modified.

i know it's not real life, but i can barely tell.

in my head, we're kissing in the bathroom stall.

in my head, i'm tracing down your body with my fingertips.

i know it isn't real, so how's it feel like this?

in my head, there's seven different versions of you in that dress.

your face is painted on the back of my eyelids.

alchemical

i think you mean it when you whisper something nice.

i see you in poetry.

i tend to find the messiest of phrasing.

i convolute or dilute what i feel.

would you mind if i put it quite plainly, and i asked you to touch me tonight?

won't you come over?

i am melting into this.

so come closer.

you could never get too close to me.

i tend to shy away from moderation.

consider me a hedonist at heart.

forgive me if i come off heavy handed.

once i start, i don't know where to stop.

won't you come closer?

i wanna be what you need.

i wanna know what you need.

oh, pretty please.

carolina honey

i ran three blocks just to kiss you.

i feel the lovers that precede you.

i think i'd give them all up if you asked me to.

i wish you would.

you stayed up a little later just to linger by my side.

you effortlessly recite things i could never write.

your metaphor bleeds into fact.

darling, i'm in the palm of your hand.

i don't know how, but i need you now.

we know i can't stay, even if i want to.

carolina honey, can you tell me what to call you?

it's no surprise i'm dreaming about you sleeping in my t-shirt.

when you walk me to your door i drown hook, line, and sinker.

this is the type of tenderness i know is gonna kill me later.

promise me you'll think of me when you're alone.

i look for you in every room.

i know what you are, babe.

can you see right through me too?

without a doubt

you said you don't wanna hurt me.

that's a silly thing to say.

if you want love, then you want hurting.

all good things come with a little bit of pain.

you said you're always gonna trust me.

i couldn't hold it in my brain.

i don't know much, but i know some things.

love is gonna chew me up.

love is gonna spit me out.

you will do the same.

love is gonna turn me in.

love is gonna break me down.

you will do the same, without a doubt.

when you get a taste of something sweet, you don't wanna give it up.

you'll stomach the repercussions.

there's a crash to every rush.

humans decompose into ashes, into atoms, so permanence is hard to entertain.

no matter what i say, i'll do it anyway.

love is gonna build me up.

even though i want to, i won't hold you to forever.

you don't need to love me always, as long as you love me now.

[eyelessfaces]

this might make too long of an idea for rn but,, llewyn angst where he breaks up with you for whatever (stupid) reason and leaves, only to come back a few months later needing a place to crash for the night (and an excuse to see you) and finds that youve been doing horribly mentally and physically,, im a slutttt for angst

again

llewyn davis x reader

summary: well, the ask basically

warnings: angst!! llewyn kinda accidentally being an asshole because he's really good at that, obvious mentions of a difficult break up and what goes with it

tags: hurt/comfort, eventual fluff

word count: 2.4k

—

Llewyn sighs as the building door closes behind him. He knew this was bound to happen, he knew he wouldn't be able to let go of you, he knew he would go back to this, to you one day or the other.

He sighs, pressing the button to your intercom. There's an unpleasant noise before you pick up and speak.

"Hello?" it feels strange to hear your voice again, after purposefully avoiding each other for so long for your own good.

Llewyn swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry and funny. "Hey, it's me" he says, instantly cringing and feeling the urge to dig his own grave as he pronounces the words. "Llewyn." he specifies, in case you would have already forgotten the sound of his voice.

There's a pause, no sign from you on the other side. He even thinks you decided to ignore him, and fairly, it was valid – it was your ex, ringing late, coming out of nowhere after breaking up with you unpromptedly. 

You had every reason to ignore him, to leave him hanging just like he did for you.

"What do you want" your voice is harsh, cold, any expression seeming to filter through the piece of technology. 

It makes his stomach churn. He knows that you know damn well what he wants, he knows he’s being annoying.

Maybe it was better if he slept outside tonight, after all. But he really, really fucking needed to see you.

"I uh… I need a place to stay" he declares, looking down at the stuff gathered at his feet. “Please, sweetheart, it’s pouring out there. It’s late, I have nowhere else to go”

There's a silence before he hears you sigh over the other side, then despite everything, he hears the buzzing sound of the door.

"Thank you angel. Thank you so much" he hastily blurts out, reaching to pick up his stuff at his feet.

—

When he reaches your floor, your door is already half opened, and he tentatively comes in, closing the door behind him.

Your whole apartment obviously smells of you, and it hurts. It hurts being reminded of everything, of how happy you were together, of how he fucked it all up. 

He puts all of his stuff down when he reaches the living room, taking a look at you perched on your armchair, reading, not paying attention to him in the slightest. His heart sways at the fact that you’re wearing the cardigan he gifted you on your most recent birthday – it is stupid, of course you wouldn’t stop wearing it just because the person that bought it dumped you.

"You can pick leftovers from the fridge if you want" you declare nonchalantly, not tearing your gaze from your book, tearing Llewyn from his thoughts.

He quickly looks over to the kitchen, then back at you.

"...Okay. Thank you" You pinch your lips in a small smile in response, your eyes still directed towards your book. “And thank you for letting me stay. I appreciate it”

“Sure” you sigh as you close your book and readjust your position on the armchair, finally looking up at him. “I heard your latest song” you nod. “It’s good.”

"Thanks" he smiles awkwardly, giving you a polite nod. “I uh… It’s about you.” he declares as he sits down on your couch, his bed for the night. He had gotten back to his starting point, to what he gets to have from anyone, when he used to have so much here.

“I figured.” you sighed silently as you put your book away, lightly clearing your throat before giving him back the same bitter, awkward smile. It had been blatant the first time you listened to it. Then the more you listened to it, the more it hurt. 

If there had been one good thing for Llewyn about breaking up with you, it was the waves of inspiration that came with it, the effortless urges to write about the hole it left. 

He would rather have had it another way, though. In a way that didn’t involve hurting you, in a way that didn’t involve profoundly regretting his decision.

“Jim told me you were starting to get some recognition” you continue, a weak smile over your face.

He chuckles, nervously fiddling with his own hands. 

“Recognition’s a huge word” he cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “But yeah, things are finally starting to move” he nods, pinching his lips in a small smile.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you” you declare with a tired, although genuine smile. “You deserve it.”

Llewyn gratefully smiles back at you, seeing your eyes quickly darting away from him to awkwardly look at your own lap. He lightly clears his throat, trying to dismiss the obvious feeling of tension stilling in the room. “How have you been doing? You uh… You seein’ anyone?” he asks, getting more comfortable on the couch.

You chuckle, stupidly shaking your head. “No, not really.” you cringe as your voice slightly cracks mid sentence. The silence after that feels heavy, you can only hear the traffic outside. 

“You?” you eventually ask in return, finally looking back at him. “No” he shakes his head, and you somehow feel relieved. You shouldn’t be. He doesn’t care, not anymore.

You nod awkwardly, before running a hand over your face.

“I hm… I don’t think I’ll be able to move on from you.” you admit trying to diffuse the obvious tension, your face contorting into an uncomfortable expression. It makes it worse, and Llewyn scoffs, his signature asshole mocking scoff that tends to rub people the wrong way.

“What?” he asks bewildered, as if you just said the most stupid thing he has ever heard. “Of course you will. I don’t doubt you’ll find someone else soon”

“That’s not what it’s about” you sigh impatiently.

Llewyn shifts uncomfortably on the couch, feeling a mix of guilt and yearning in the air. He knows damn well what you mean. He has been there. He still is, but he can’t.

"I... I didn't come here expecting... I mean, I didn't want to burden you with all this," he stammers, running a hand through his hair to brush back his messy curls. “Our past”

You look at him with a mix of frustration and dismay. "You don't get it, do you? You dropped me with barely any explanation and now you just show up at my door, acting like nothing even happened. What do you expect?"

He sighs, his past actions hitting him in the face full speed. "I messed up, okay? I know I hurt you, and I can't change that. But if you wanna hear it then yeah, being without you, it's been... It's been hell. I thought I could move on, find inspiration elsewhere, but every fucking song I write, every fucking note I play, it's all about you."

You stare at him, searching for sincerity in his eyes before scoffing in dismay. There may be some, but the delivery makes it look awful. "Llewyn– you can't just waltz back into my life whenever it's convenient for you. I can't keep going through this emotional rollercoaster whenever you decide you need something."

He nods, regret painted across his face. He shouldn’t have come here, that’s true. He shouldn’t have relapsed and come back here just to get a glimpse of you.

"I know. I messed up, and I don't expect you to take me back or anything. I just needed a place to stay tonight, and I didn't know where else to go."

There's a heavy silence in the room, filled with unresolved emotions. You take a deep breath, as if steeling yourself for what is to come next. You do your best to ignore the knot tightening in your throat.

"Okay. Great. You know what? Forget about it, everything's fine. I'll leave you the living room" you declare in a haste, getting up from your seat. "You know where the blankets are, you just came here for a place to sleep, after all" you throw before disappearing out of his sight, leaving him reflecting on his behavior and poor choice of words.

For such a talented songwriter, he surely had an awful way with words.

The living room is left in silence, filled with an unbearable tension. Llewyn sits on the couch, staring at the space where you were just moments ago. He feels a mixture of regret, guilt, and frustration with himself for not being able to express what he truly feels, and instead acting like an asshole.

As he looks around the apartment, memories of the time you both spent together flood his mind. 

The familiar surroundings, the scent of your perfume lingering in the air – it all serves as a painful reminder of what he lost, again. 

He can't escape the fact that he was the one who fucked it all up, and now he's facing the tough consequences.

The sound of your footsteps echo in the hallway, and he hears the bedroom door close. Llewyn runs a hand over his face, letting out a deep sigh. He knows he mishandled the situation, and he's not sure how to fix it. Not even sure if he can.

After a moment of contemplation, he decides to get up and find the blankets you mentioned. As he walks through the apartment, he notices the pictures on the walls – snapshots of happier times. It only intensifies the ache in his chest.

—

Llewyn can’t close his eyes, can’t stay in the same position for over twenty seconds. He tosses and turns on your couch, replaying the conversation in his mind over and over again as he curls up under the thick blanket he’s draped in.

He can’t let your relationship remain like this; he can’t leave it here, can’t spend the night and leave in the morning like nothing ever happened. 

It feels automatic as he sits up and gets rid of the blanket over his body. He doesn’t think twice as he beelines to your bedroom either, softly knocking on the door before he hears your voice and tentatively steps inside. Your bedroom is bathed in darkness, save for the warm, dim light of your bedside lamp. 

You glance over at him from your side of the bed, waiting for anything to happen, for him to say anything. 

"I'm sorry," he finally mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to come here tonight and mess everything up. I just... I needed to see you, but I didn't think it through." he pauses before speaking again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you even more.”

You glance at him, your expression a mix of frustration and sadness.

“Come over here,” you order, not louder than a whisper. He does and joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed he used to sleep in just a few months ago. "Llewyn, this is not about tonight. It's about everything. You can't just walk back into my life and act like nothing happened." you explain, frowning. “You need to understand that this is unfair to me.”

He nods, feeling the weight of your words. "I know, I just... I miss you, and I didn't handle things well. I should've talked to you, explained myself."

"It's a bit late for that now, don't you think?" you reply, your voice still tinged with bitterness.

He sighs. "I know I– I messed up, and I can't change the past. But I still care about you, and I didn't want to see you hurt. It’s just… You know. I can’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated, I can’t give you enough and I have shit to figure out, you know that. You know that's why things are that way between us”

You meet his dark eyes filled with sincerity. There’s still something he doesn’t get. “I don’t care about that Llewyn” you frown, your hand coming to cover his. “I was happy with you. That’s all that mattered to me.” you nod, trying to prevent the materialized proof of your emotions from threatening your eyes. “Are you happier now that we’re apart?” you ask.

“Fuck no,” he scoffs, his hand grabbing yours, his hold tightening.

“Me neither. Not at all.” you admit and take a deep, shaky breath. Your expression and mask fall down, and tears finally slip away. Llewyn doesn’t think twice as he exhales and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m sorry. I thought it would make your life easier to get away from you” he whispers as he rubs your back up and down. “Every success I achieve just feels like a failure without you to share it with." he admits quietly.

The room is quiet, save for the sound of your quiet sobs. Llewyn holds you tighter, as if trying to make up for all the times he couldn't hold you when you needed it the most.

"I messed up, sweetheart. I messed up big time," he murmurs into your hair. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but all I did was hurt you and myself. I don't know how to fix this, but I will try if you let me."

You pull away slightly, looking into his eyes, searching for any sign that he means what he says. His gaze is intense, genuine, and remorseful.

You nod, chewing onto your bottom lip. "Can we try again?" you ask, your voice cracking.

He nods, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "We'll take it slow, okay? No more impulsive decisions. We talk, we communicate, and if it doesn't work, at least we'll know we tried." 

Llewyn nods again, a determined look on his face. "Whatever it takes. I don't wanna lose you for good."

And in that dimly lit room, with the weight of past mistakes hanging in the air, you both find a glimmer of hope – a chance to rebuild what was broken, a chance for a new beginning.

The night unfolds with shared confessions, tears, and the raw honesty that was missing for so long. Llewyn opens up about his fears and regrets, and you express the pain and confusion you've been carrying. It's not an easy conversation, but it's a necessary one.

As the hours pass, you find yourselves talking about the good times, the laughter, and the shared dreams that once bound you together. 

You fall asleep when the sun begins to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows. Exhausted and emotionally spent, you both lay in a comfortable silence, holding each other like you used to. 

It's a fragile beginning, but there's a sense of mutual understanding, a shared commitment to try and make things work again.

—

reblogs and feedback are greaaaaaaaaaatly appreciated!!!!!

inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @spxctorsslxt @dowbastan

[k-dokja]

just finish re-reading samuel and yn being chaotic. now im begging for more crumbs of them if you don't mind 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

You occupy the living room, spreading out on the couch like you own the place. You don't, he does. You act like it's your house. He wants to drop his briefcase on you for that alone.

"Ack!"

No reason to not listen to his impulsive thought when it comes to you. "Why didn't you come to the office today?" He glares down at you and it would be far more effective if you aren't wearing that tiny tank top that shows him your cleavage and stomach. Not that you notice where his gaze strays.

"I was sick!" You protest. "I didn't feel good this morning so I stayed home, what's wrong with that?!"

He nearly rolls his eyes backwards into his skull. "What's wrong is that you're meant to send in a notice." He glowers. "Did you know how much I had to do to make up for your absence?"

"Aw, does that mean you need me? Why Samuel, you only need—Ack!"

You clutch your head where he flicks your forehead. If you wince then good, it's meant to hurt. "Stop messing around, I expect overtime once you recover." With that, he leaves your presence after he makes his point known. Knowing you, however, you probably stick your tongue out the moment he shows his back to you.

He turns back sharply, catching you in your act. You quickly whip your head away, pretending to focus on the television. That puts a slight smirk on his face, but you won't know about that.

After his shower and a fresh change of clothes, Samuel returns to the main hall of his penthouse with an easy stride. From where he stands in the kitchen, he can get a good view of you and the show you're watching. Some medical drama, he reckons, you have been into those lately even if you don't understand the head or tail of the medical side of the show.

Briefly, he wonders if half of the appeal of it is because you can't understand anything. Better to turn your brain off and let others do the thinking. After the day he had, maybe that's what he needs at this very moment. With that in mind, he grabs a drink with rocks that'd soothe his temper and coasts over to the couch.

"Scoot over," he commands and you comply with a face that he ignores you were making. Samuel sits down at the other end of the couch where your feet once laid. The moment he hits the cushions, you immediately throw your legs over his lap.

Samuel ignores it and favours savouring his alcohol over you. "Did you even manage to learn anything from watching these?" He asks absentmindedly, not really caring for the answer.

"Yeah, of course," you say, "I learned about symptoms, tumours, and viral infection. Like you, for example."

He arches an eyebrow, "Me?"

"Yeah, you're infected by the bitch-itis," you grin, "not contagious and very dangerous to everyone around you."

Samuel contemplates, but only for a second, before the corner of his lips raises, "No, I think it must've been contagious because you're infected with it, too."

"Hey!" You throw a stray cushion at him. It's only by the gift of his reflexes that he catches it easily. Samuel sets it between your legs and his lap, before making himself comfortable.

"So what are we watching tonight?"

"We?" You ask pointedly but when he doesn't elaborate, you return to your attention to the TV. "House's on. You might like him, he's so... what's the word, sardonic."

He doubts that, but he can't deny your statement piques his interest a little. "How so?"

"Wait, I'd argue he's better than you," you giggle, "at least the man is helping people, while you only ever help yourself."

Samuel clicks his tongue, unfazed by your statement, "That's not true," he says, "you benefit from my actions, too."

You snicker, "Yes, but that's collateral, not intentional. Because otherwise, it would've meant you care about me. There's no way that would be true, right~?"

Samuel only grunts and takes another sip of his drink. There's nothing left of the alcohol except the residual ice water left behind. However, it proves to be a distraction because you don't end up looking at him like you've said something right. He doesn't need that tonight, not after the long day he had.

All he wants to do is turn his brain off and watch the TV.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Read Chapter 13 on AO3!

T.K. 🍑

[11:10am] Did I leave my AFD hoodie at your place?

Carlos

[11:10am] I don’t know. Let me look.

[11:16am] Yep. Found it. Under the right side of my bed.

T.K. 🍑

[11:17am] Shit. I thought I grabbed it. My dad has the AC cranked up at the firehouse. He read somewhere that cold is better for your metabolism. I feel like I’m in a freezer.

Carlos

[11:18am] Want me to to bring it to you? I’m heading to my parents’ in a little bit. I can drop it off.

T.K. 🍑

[11:18am] Yeah that’d be great actually. You don’t mind?

Carlos

[11:19am] It’s basically on my way. Can’t have my boyfriend turning into a popsicle.

T.K. 🍑

[11:19am] You’d better hurry or you might be too late. My fingers are turning into icicles as I type.

Carlos

[11:24am] On my way. Don’t freeze before I get there.

He pulls up to the firehouse about ten minutes later, reaching for the hoodie on the passenger seat as he opens his door and steps out. He’s heading for the open bay doors when a human rocket in the size and shape of his boyfriend comes hurtling out toward him. “Oh thank god. You saved my life.”

T.K. crashes into him, his hands sliding under the hem of Carlos’ t-shirt. Carlos shouts and tries to pull away as the aforementioned icicle fingers skate up his abdomen. “Ah! Let go of me! You’re freezing!”

“No way.” T.K. snuggles into his chest and gives a little shiver. “Best thing for hypothermia is body heat. And you are very, very hot.”

“You’re not hypothermic,” Carlos says with a roll of his eyes, trying to squirm away again. T.K. is a stage one clinger though and holds on tightly.

“How would you know? You’re a police officer. Not a doctor,” he says.

“People don’t get hypothermic in Austin in May,” Carlos tells him. “People don’t get hypothermic in Austin ever.”

“First time for everything,” T.K. mumbles as he buries his nose in Carlos’ chest.

It’s equally as cold as the rest of him and Carlos suppresses a laugh. T.K. is exaggerating, but not by much. “Do you want your sweatshirt?” he asks.

“No,” T.K. says. “I’m just going to stay like this.”

“Isn’t it going to be hard to fight fires if you’re glued to my stomach?” Carlos asks.

T.K. reluctantly pulls back. “Fine.” He takes the hoodie from Carlos and slips it on over his uniform. “Thanks for bringing this by.”

Carlos runs a hand down T.K.’s sweatshirt clad arm. “That’s what boyfriends are for.”

“What are you doing at your parents’?” T.K. asks as he shoves his hands into his sweatshirt pockets.

“My dad is at work and my mom needs something out of the garage that she can’t reach,” Carlos says dryly. “I’ve been summoned.”

“But you’ll likely be paid in food for your services,” T.K. says, his eyes lighting up. “Food you will share with…?”

Carlos rolls his eyes fondly. “Yes, I will save you some tres leches if she made any.”

“Yes!”

Carlos chews the inside of his lip as he considers his next move. “Actually,” he says, “she’s been asking about you. She wants you to come for dinner. To thank you for taking care of me when I was hurt. And probably to be nosy about our relationship.”

“Yes,” T.K. says immediately.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to—“

“Will she make food?”

“Yes?”

“Will she show me embarrassing naked baby photos of you?”

“Probably?”

T.K. looks at him very seriously. “Will I get to meet the chickens?”

Carlos snort laughs. He’d told T.K. about his parents keeping chickens in their backyard at some point in their texting chats and he’d had a thousand questions about it. “Yes, I’m sure my mom would love for you to meet the chickens.”

“Then yes! When? Tonight? Wait, I’m working. Tomorrow?”

“I’ll ask her today, but probably this weekend.”

“Oh. That’s so far away.” T.K.’s lip comes out in an adorable pout.

“I think you’ll live,” Carlos says with a chuckle.

The entire firehouse lights up, alarms and sirens blaring as a call comes in. “Oops, gotta go!” T.K. says, kissing him quick and then running back inside.

“He-ey Carlos!” Mateo gives him a wave as he scurries toward the truck. “Good to see you bro!”

“Hey Mateo.” Carlos lifts a hand and waves back.

“Carlos! You gotta come by for dinner if you’re free!” Paul says as he climbs aboard. “I’m making my mama’s gumbo.”

“Another time!” Carlos calls as the engine starts up.

T.K. sticks his head out the engine window as they drive past him. “Bye babe! See you later!”

He can hear the rest of the team wolf whistling and yelling as they go by and feels color flood his face, but not in a shameful way. T.K. called him babe in front of his teammates. In front of his dad. He’s excited to have Carlos in his life.

It’s a new feeling. And it’s one Carlos likes.

At five thirty on Friday night he pulls the Camaro into the Strand driveway and cuts the engine, giving himself a second to breathe and try to relax. His nerves are all over the place. Whatever happens tonight with his family is going to define his relationship with T.K. for the foreseeable future. And he’s honestly not quite sure what to expect.

He’s never brought a boy home before. For a lot of reasons.

Stepping out of the car he’s almost to the door when he hears someone call his name from behind. He turns to see Owen striding up the front walk, Buttercup trundling along behind him on a leash. 

“Captain Strand,” he says, giving him a nod as he joins him at the front door.

“Owen,” the captain says pointedly. “You’re not one of my firefighters.”

“Yes sir.” What is it about this man that makes him break out in a cold sweat?

Owen uses his key to open the front door, unleashing Buttercup who wanders inside in search of a drink from his water bowl. “Come on in,” he says, beckoning Carlos inside. “T.K.!” he yells up the stairs. “Your boyfriend is here!”

“Be down in a minute!” T.K. yells back.

“Can I get you anything?” Owen says as he heads for the kitchen. “I just got this new cleansing juice. It is full of probiotics. Any interest?”

“No, thank you,” Carlos says, just barely biting back the “sir” that forms on his tongue.

Owen shrugs and takes a swig from his own bottle. “So, family dinner tonight?”

“Yes. Just my mom and dad,” Carlos says. “T.K., I don’t know if he told you this, but he helped me out last month when I was injured. My mom kind of thinks he’s a hero.”

“I like her already,” Owen says. “I would love to meet her sometime.”

The cold sweat turns into a cold panic and Carlos opens his mouth to reply, but T.K. comes bounding down the stairs, his shirt a blur of color as he presses a kiss to Carlos’ mouth. “Hi babe,” he says. He’s made incredibly liberal use of the nickname since claiming it. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Carlos says.

“Well you boys have fun,” Owen says. “Have him home by midnight.”

“Dad.” T.K. rolls his eyes.

“Kidding, kidding! Enjoy!”

T.K. follows Carlos out to the car, settling into the passenger seat with ease. “Should I have invited your dad to dinner?” Carlos asks worriedly.

“My dad?” T.K. looks at him in confusion.

“He said he’d like to meet my mom and I realized I could have invited him. Should I go back inside? My mom won’t care if we have one more, she always makes plenty.”

He’s reaching for the door handle, but T.K. puts a hand on his arm. “Carlos my dad is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Carlos asks, still feeling bad. “I didn’t even think about it.”

“It’s so sweet of you to want him to come but…I’d kind of like this night to be just about us. I know I already met your mom, but I haven’t had a chance to get to know her yet. And I haven’t met your dad at all.” He smiles. “I love my dad. But in case you hadn’t noticed, he kind of pulls focus. And I plan to be the center of attention tonight.”

He flashes Carlos a cheeky smile that makes him smile back and eases his guilt. “Okay. But next time. I’m sure my parents would like to meet your dad.”

“Next time,” T.K. agrees. “Now let’s go! I’m starving!”

It’s only about thirty minutes from T.K.’s house to his parents’. T.K. chatters on the whole time about Harry Styles and Jackson Pollock and how New York City has the best water in the entire country. T.K.’s voice is animated and poassionate, but it’s still kind of soothing. Like listening to a podcast.

“Whoa,” T.K. says, stopping mid-stream when they finally turn onto the right street. “Somebody’s having a party.”

“Looks like,” Carlos says, carefully navigating between the cars that are parked along the road. 

And then he spots a familiar pick-up truck followed by an equally familiar minivan and his heart plummets into his stomach. “Oh no,” he says quietly, barely aware that the words have escaped his lips. 

“What?” T.K. asks.

Carlos puts the Camaro into park in his parents’ driveway and looks at T.K. “You remember how I said this dinner was going to be just you and me and my parents?”

“Yeah.”

He nods toward T.K.’s window. “That minivan? That belongs to my sister Ana. That truck over there is my Tía Lucy’s. The Subaru? That’s my Tío Ramón’s.”

Understanding slowly dawns in T.K.’s eyes. “Oh. The party is at your house?”

“I’m afraid so.” Carlos tightens his hands into fists on top of his thighs. “Do you want to leave? This is not what you signed up for.”

“Leave?” T.K. gives him a look like he’s crazy. “Why would we leave?”

“Because my family is big and loud and overwhelming and you were expecting a quiet dinner to get to know my parents?”

“Will there still be tamales?”

“If the kids haven’t eaten them all already.”

That is when the look of concern that Carlos was expecting finally crosses T.K.’s face and he starts to fumble with his seatbelt. “Well okay let’s get in there then!”

“T.K. are you sure—“

“Carlos,” T.K. looks straight into his eyes, deadly serious. “You promised me your mom’s tamales. Nothing is going to keep me from them. I work in a firehouse full of loud, nosy, obnoxious people. They were all there on our first date. Your family doesn’t scare me.” He opens his door. “Now can we please go before all the tamales are gone?”

Carlos has no choice but to get out and follow T.K. to the door even as he is internally panicking about how this is going to go. He’s out to his family. But it’s not something they talk about like…ever. He doesn’t quite know where they all stand on him dating a man, especially some of his more devoutly Catholic tíos and tías.

But T.K. practically bounds up the front steps with the energy of a golden retriever, so Carlos tries to put on a brave face as he pushes open the front door. “Mom! We’re here!” he calls as they step inside.

There’s music going and people talking and laughing, the smell of food in the air. All the feelings of home that Carlos greyed out of his condo for so many years because it was easier to pretend it didn’t exist than it was to invite people in and be rejected.

“Carlitos!”

His mom appears from around the corner, the same floral apron that she’s worn for thirty years covering her outfit. She pulls him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning her eyes to T.K. “T.K.! Welcome! Bienvenidos!” She gives him the same hug and kiss along with an extra pinch on the cheek. “We are so glad to have you here! Come in, come in.”

She shoos him in front of her and Carlos gently grabs her arm. “Mom, I thought you said this was going to be small.”

“It is small mijo.” She looks puzzled. “Tía Dolores and Tía Eduardo are out of town on their cruise.”

His mom would think that having one sister and brother-in-law absent from their party constitutes a small gathering. “I thought it was going to be just you and me and T.K. and Dad,” he clarifies.

“Well I mentioned it to Ana and she wanted to come, so then of course I had to invite Luisa too,” she says. “And then Tía Lucy was over on Sunday and asked about you so I told her you were coming over and she invited herself and then…” she waves a hand, “you know how it goes.”

He does indeed know how it goes. In all honesty, he should have anticipated this. It’s his own fault really that he didn’t see it coming.

He follows his mom and T.K. into the living room and open kitchen where his family is waiting. There’s a chorus of hellos and he receives several hugs around the knees from the kids in the room as his mom introduces T.K.

“Everyone this is T.K.!” his mom says proudly and T.K. gives a little wave to the room.

“Hello,” he says all smiles and sunlight. 

Aware that he only has about three seconds before his family swarms his fledgling of a boyfriend, Carlos grabs T.K.’s hand and steers him out the back door to where his dad is working the grill with a couple of his tíos and cousins.

“Dad?” Carlos says as they approach.

“Carlitos!” His dad hands a pair of tongs over to Tío Lucas and wipes his hands on his apron. “Good to see you.”

“Dad, this is T.K. My boyfriend.” He watches with cautious eyes as his dad takes in this information. He knows his dad knows, his mom definitely told him what tonight was all about, but he’s still nervous about what his dad’s reaction will be.

“Well of course it is!” His dad holds out a hand, grabbing T.K.’s and shaking enthusiastically.

Carlos relaxes, just barely containing a sigh of relief. Not awkward. Good. 

“I’m Gabriel. So nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard you’re quite the superstar firefighter,” his dad continues.

“Well I don’t know about that,” T.K. says, oddly modest, though the color on his cheeks indicates that he’s pleased by this description.

“According to my wife you’re quite something,” Gabriel says. “She was very impressed with how you helped our Carlos.”

“I was happy to do it,” T.K. says, looking at Carlos with soft eyes. Then they drift to something over his shoulder and go wide. “Oh my god! Is that the chicken coop?!”

He almost knocks Carlos over in his haste to head for the far corner of the backyard. Carlos laughs. “We’ll be back,” he tells his dad, then heads over to where T.K. is already kneeling in front of the chicken wire fence, making soft noises at the hens inside.

“Oooh look at you, you’re such a pretty girl aren’t you?” he’s saying when Carlos reaches him. He turns and looks up at Carlos. “What are their names?”

“The black one is Bubbles. The brown is Princess Sparkles. And the white one is Marisol. My niece and nephew named Bubbles and Princess Sparkles. My mom named Marisol.”

“Can I pet them?”

“Um…you can try. They’re not super friendly. They really only like my mom.”

T.K. is already opening the enclosure and picking Bubbles up, cooing softly. “Hi Bubbles. Are you a good girl? Yes you are. Yes you are!”

Carlos watches in amusement as T.K. snuggles each chicken in turn without a single peck. They all cluck softly and let him stroke their feathers, then calmly wander around his feet, searching the dirt for food.

“What are you, some kind of animal whisperer?” Carlos asks.

T.K. shrugs and sets Princess Sparkles down. “Animals are easier to understand than people sometimes. And they’re very, very cute.”

“Boys, oye!” his dad calls, beckoning them back toward the house. “Food is ready. Let’s eat!”

It’s a chaotic night, the way family dinners always are. One of Carlos’ nieces spills an entire glass of milk at the dinner table, Ana loses her car keys only to find them an hour later in the freezer, and T.K. is pulled from one person to the next to be lovingly interrogated. Carlos tries to stay with him, but he keeps getting pulled in a hundred different directions to help with food, find the aforementioned lost keys, move a table from the garage to the living room, and a host of other things.

He does get to sit down long enough to watch T.K. demolish an impressive number of tamales along with a huge portion of arroz con pollo, refried beans, and steak with chimichurri. His mom keeps refilling T.K.’s plate, chatting away with him the entire time, to the point that Carlos is a little worried he might have to take T.K. to the ER to have his stomach pumped.

It’s almost nine o’clock by the time they leave, his mom handing him several tupperwares full of leftovers to take home for him and T.K. “Thank you for coming.” She pulls him close so she can whisper in his ear. “I love him. Make sure you bring him again.”

Those words make Carlos feel like he could crumple to the ground in a ball of tears. The open acceptance of his relationship is overwhelming. When he’d come out to his parents at eighteen it had felt like his entire world was balanced precariously on their reaction and he’s kind of been living that way ever since. Never fully himself, always putting on a front for their comfortability.

“Thank you,” he says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out half cracked.

“T.K.!” his mom throws her arms around him. “You are welcome anytime. You make sure Carlos shares some of that ropa vieja with you; it’s his favorite and if you’re careful he’ll eat it all himself.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make sure he shares,” T.K. says, throwing him that charming smile that endeared him to the hearts of everyone in this house tonight. 

“You’re quiet,” he says as they drive back to Carlos’, the tupperware sitting in his lap.

“Just thinking,” Carlos says, flashing him a quick smile as they stop at a light.

“Good thoughts? Or bad thoughts?”

Thoughts he can’t say yet. Thoughts about him, his family, T.K., how they all fit together. Maybe someday he’ll be able to share them, but for now he keeps them to himself.

He sends T.K. a flirtier smile. “Thoughts about how I’m going to say thank you for tonight.”

“Ooh,” T.K. smiles and shifts in his seat. “I would say you don’t have to, but I’m very excited to find out what that looks like.”

“You should be.”

[imkylotrash]

I used to get lost in your eyes

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader (first person).

My hands are shaking. Any minute now, he'll come walking through that door and I'll have to break both of our hearts. Any minute now, I will have my last moment with him, and my bones are threatening to break under the weight of that knowledge. Keys rattle on the other side of the door, and I take a deep breath to stabilize my thundering heart. It does not do the trick.

"Hey, how was..." His voice trails off when he sees my packed bags by the door. There's no reason to try and hide the tears making their way down my cheeks. He'll know soon enough what will happen tonight.

"We need to talk." The four worst words in a relationship. My voice remains steady despite the cold making a home in my veins.

"What's going on?" He still has one foot out in the hallway as if not fully entering the room will change the outcome of tonight. It won't.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't keep waiting for you to let me in, because I don't think you'll ever be ready. And I definitely can't continue to be shut out when you're struggling. It hurts too much." I feel my bottom lip quiver as I try to reel back some of the feelings threatening to rip their way out of my heart. For so long, I've managed to keep them contained, but I can't do it anymore. I am tired.

"Please, don't. You know I've been working on this. You know I'm trying to-to-I don't want to lose you." Finally, he enters the room to walk over to me and get on his knees in front of me. For once, I can read him as an open book. The fear of losing me, the broken heart already demanding to be felt even though I'm still here. I see it all, but it's too late.

"I can't keep clawing at your walls, darling. My nails haven't even managed to make a single scratch." Nothing on this earth could prepare me for the feeling in my chest as I watch all hope evaporate from his face. I have to consciously remind myself why this is necessary. How many evenings I've sat waiting for him to come home, to tell me what troubles him. How many times I've gone to bed alone because he'd rather stay in his study and ignore the world. Once, I was naive enough to think that I might one day become his world. That he'd trust me enough to let me see the sides of him that were less than perfect. I did not harbor such sentiments now.

"There must be something I can do," he argues but I've made my decision. It will do none of us any good to dwell on what might have been.

"I'll stay with Lily and James for a few days until I find somewhere to go." It's selfish to bring his best friend into this, but I have nowhere to go and Lily is my best friend. It's only natural to seek her comfort right now. I tell myself it's only for a few days. And it's not as if James won't be able to come over and see Remus. I'd never get in the way of that.

"Please stay." With unsteady legs, I stand up and step to the side to pass Remus still on his knees.

"Please," he whispers so quietly, I almost miss it. If there is something smaller than a quark, I believe that would be equivalent to the size of the broken pieces of my heart lying shattered on the floor. He grips my wrist to keep me from taking another step, but I cannot stay. I cannot destroy myself to make him whole.

"Let go of me, Remus." It comes out as a plea rather than an order, but I cannot bring myself to cause him any more pain than necessary. Fire spreads where his skin touches mine and I curse how weak my body becomes by his touch.

"Don't make me do it myself. Please just let me go." I don't want to have to pry his hand off of me. I can't have that be my last memory with him. After a full minute, he finally lets go of my wrist.

"You are worthy of love, my darling. I'm just not the right person to give it to you." I lean down to press a kiss to his forehead as a final goodbye. The sight of his tear-streaked face will haunt me from this day forward, but I still walk out the door. And he doesn't stop me this time.

[ryeriy]

hey!! could i request something for jack hughes? i was thinking him and his gf have a safe word for during sex and she’s never had to use it but one night it’s just too much for her so she uses it for the first time and he immediately stops and comforts her

Thank you for asking! I hope you enjoy!

a/n: this is my first actual time writing something like this so it might be weird but I'm going to try my best lol

warnings: mentions of sexual interactions (nothing hard core), smut with a fluff ending

Hufflepuff

Shit. That's what I said when I saw thar the devils had lost. I knew Jack wasn't going to be good mood once he got home. Mind as well brace myself now for what is yet to come.

I didn't even bother giving Jack a text after the game. I knew he would be in a mad mood so I didn't want to cause anything else to go wrong.

He usually would text me when he's on his way from the airport but I think right now he wouldn't even bother to text me. And I understand that. I'd be mad to if I lost a game. Especially if it was basically my job to win.

The time on the stove read 12:23 a.m. when I heard the door nob of me and his apartment turning. Surprised I stayed up this late. I'd usually be in bed right now. It immediately caught my attention. My eyes looking at the door when Jack walked through the door. I walked up to him before putting a small smile on my face.

"Hey baby...you played great tonight. J was watching you." My voice was soft. He sighed before looking at me.

"Not right now baby...I just really need you right now." He told me. I could tell he really needed it. What else did I have to do right now.

We both made our way to our bedroom. Immediately after we had walked in the room he pinned me against the wall. When he looked me in the eyes. Moved his face closer to mine before placing a rough kiss on my lips. It escalated pretty quickly after that.

Clothes being removed and thrown across the room from both of us. He picked me up and place me on the bed. Laying on my back in just my bra and my underwear. Him just in his boxers. He ran his hand through his hair before looking down at me.

"Can I?" He asked. He knew he was mad. But he was still going to ask me first consent. He really is sweet even when he's angry.

"Yes." I replied back to him. It only took him seconds before removing the clothing off of us that was still remaining.

Throwing them somewhere around the room. He placed his hands on my hips giving me a sensation feeling in my lower body.

Without any warnings he immediately inserted himself in. I moaned unexpectedly that he was going to do that. He took it slow for a few seconds before going faster.

Usually I enjoy this but tonight I really wasn't. Trying to get his attention was going to be the hardest.

"Mm...babe..." I let out trying to get his attention. I waited a minute before trying again.

"Jack...Jack..." I said again. I'm pretty sure he was to focused to even acknowledge the fact I'm even speaking. I sighed softly.

"Hufflepuff!" I exclaimed in a loud tone. That was our safe word. I've never even had to use it before but I felt like to. He stopped immediately and looked at me either a face of fear.

"Baby...I'm sorry I didn't mean to! Are you okay? Everything alright? I'm sorry." He said while looking at me. He layed down next to me pulled the blanket over our body's to give us warmth. Laying on his side to look at me.

"I'm okay. I'm fine. It's not your fault. I just am not feeling it tonight. I know you had a rough night. It's okay." I ensured him. He cupped one side of my face while looking. I stroked his hair.

"I know I just shouldn't have I'm sorry." He looked at me. Now he felt really bad and I felt bad.

"Don't apologize." I gave him a soft smile to show him it was okay. I was fine. I wasn't hurt.

"Remind me. Why did we decide on hufflepuff?" He said while pulling me closer to him to cuddle.

"You really want to make me look like a nerd don't you?" I giggled a bit. He chuckled back.

"In matter of fact I do." He gave me a smile.

"Well you see. Hufflepuff is the house of kindness and loyalty and people in there complete softies. Just like you. Your a perfect example of a hufflepuff. So that's why. Also because you had no other ideas and both agreed on it."

"I thought I was the lion one?" He opposed.

"Ugh. It's gryffindor and maybe if you took the test like I did you'd know." I told him.

"Well what are you?" He asked.

"Ravenclaw(or insert yours)." I replied.

"That's the bird right?" God this was so frustrating to tell him.

"Raven. House of the wise." I explained.

"Explains a lot." He says.

"Well how about we got to sleep and in the morning I'll let you take the test?" I offered.

"That's sounds great." Putting a small smile on his face before giving me a kiss on my head.

"Night." I said.

"Night (y/n)."

[once-upon-an-imagine]

A classic hurt/comfort one for you, hun:

The reader gets a bad grade.

It could easily fit any character, but I see Remus being the one for it this time.

Argyle too, with his goofier self, but Remus...🥺

Also, I'm sorry about that I'll send good vibes to you and hope your mood gets better❤️

OMG YES! I miss writing for Remus SO much! and this is so sweet! 🥺 so, as much as I love Argyle, I have to go with Remmy

"Love?" you heard the door of your dorm opening and Remus peeking his head through. "Why weren't you at dinner?" he asked, walking over to your bed where you were lying on your side, hugging a stuffed wolf Remus had given you for your previous birthday.

"I'm not hungry" you replied quietly.

"Are you not feeling well?" he asked, sitting down next to you and placing the basket of food on the floor.

"I'm fine, I'm just not hungry!" you insisted but your voice broke.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" he asked softly, brushing your hair with his hand. You slowly turned around to face him and he noticed your tear-stained face. "Sunshine" he said, with his heart breaking a little at how upset you were. "What happened?"

"I f-failed my test, R-Remmy" you cried as Remus hugged you and you buried your head in his shoulder.

"Oh, sweetheart" he said, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. He knew how much you had studied. You were struggling with Transfiguration lately. You tried. You tried harder than anyone. Remus had noticed. You stayed up late so many nights to get ready for this test. And you failed. "I am so sorry, love" he said, kissing your head.

"I f-feel so stupid" you sobbed.

"No, love, look at me" Remus said, pulling away a little and wiping away the tears running down your cheeks. "You're not stupid-"

"Yes, I am! Why can't I still get it?" you snapped. "I can do it whenever you're helping me. But then, as soon as I'm by myself, in front of Professor McGonagall, I just freeze and do everything backwards!"

"That doesn't mean you're stupid, love" he insisted. "You just get nervous when you take exams. That is completely understandable" he said, softly. "Did you try to talk to Professor McGonagall about it? I'm sure she might let you do something for extra credit?"

"No" you said, sitting up a little. "I was really upset and I just left" you admitted, wiping away a few tears with the sleeve of your sweater. That actually happened to be Remus'.

"Tell you what" he said, pulling you closer and grabbing the basket from the floor. "Tonight, you're going to eat some of your favorite food. We're gonna read your favorite book. And you're going to sleep because you're exhausted from studying non-stop for two weeks" he said, making the tiniest smile appear on your face. "And tomorrow, we'll talk to Professor McGonagall to see how we can help your grade, okay?"

Your smile grew bigger and you threw your arms around Remus' shoulders, bringing him closer. "Thank you" you said, taking a deep breath. He always knew how to make you feel better, no matter why you were in a foul mood. "I love you" you said.

"I love you too" he said, pulling away and kissing you softly on the lips. "It's gonna be okay, sunshine" he smiled, kissing your forehead.

[i-arch-my-backula]

Late nights: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn reader

Another COD post? Yes, and this time it's longer. I recently started a new job where I work pretty late hours and I get home pretty late at night which has been messing with my sleep schedule but I thought I might as well make content out of it. I kept the job vague because I'm kinda lazy.

Warnings: Tired reader, fluff, comfort, maybe ooc Ghost

You got off your seven hour shift 20 minutes ago and you're finally home. It's around 12:30 in the morning and you know the minute you walk in the door Simon is going to wake up and come downstairs and tell you to be more quiet coming in when he quite literally can wake up from one of his hairs moving.

You turn off your car and get out, your feet feeling like they're going to break if you try to even take one more step. Your neck and back are stiff from picking up and moving so much all day long. You open the door and hang up your keys. Taking off your shoes you set them down and make your way upstairs. You can see your bedroom light on and you sigh, knowing a lecture is waiting for you. You're too exhausted and your feet hurt too much to bother showering tonight so you make your way into your bedroom and find your boyfriend sitting in bed, reading a book, waiting for you.

"Hey honey," You say taking off your work shirt and putting on one of your sleep shirts, "I'm sorry I woke you up. I really tried to be as quiet as I could be." You take off your work pants next and put on pajama pants before walking over to your bed and collapsing onto the mattress. You often complained about how it was too firm for you, but tonight it felt like heaven against your tired body.

"Don't be too sorry about it. I couldn't sleep anyway," He sets his book down and turns his attention over to you and your aching body and mind, "I assume you're very tired at the moment." You can't even nod, you just groan in agreement.

"I swear I need to start working different shifts. Sleeping in isn't this worth it." You shut your eyes as you feel Simon's large hand move to your shoulder and start to massage it. You sigh in pleasure as you feel yourself start to fall asleep. His soothing motions and the soft hum of the fan on your ceiling mixing together into the most beautiful harmony of sleep.

Eventually you're passed out and Ghost turns off his lamp, laying down next to you and falling asleep himself.

You wake up the next morning to Simon spooning you from behind. You smile to yourself and roll over onto your other side to face him. He obviously wakes up and smiles back at you. Your body aches but you're ignoring it the best you can.

"Good morning Simon. I hope you know I have to get up soon from the way you're holding me so tight." He groans and pulls you in closer against him.

"You're not getting out of bed today. You've been working all week. I want to treat you." He says in his low morning voice, his accent just making it hotter to hear.

"So we're just going to lay here in bed all morning?" You ask, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

"You're staying in bed for the day. I'm doing everything else for you." You pull away from him to look him in the eye. He's completely serious.

"Simon you can't really expect me to let you do everything yourself today honey. I'd feel bad if I didn't try to help you at least a little bit."

"I'm really expecting you to take today off and just relax baby," He presses a kiss to your forehead, "Just let me take care of you." You sigh and press back into him.

"Alright fine. Just stay here for a little while longer."

"That I can do.

[cassynite]

“kissing them as a bribe to keep them in bed” for sparrow and daeran if inspiration strikes!

Thank you so much for the prompt Taylor!! Life really got in the way of getting this one done so it took a minute for me to write it but I had SO much fun once I did start it.

----

Sparrow blinks awake in near-perfect darkness, the soft vague shapes around her only recognizable as her bedroom in Drezen through months of familiarity. Outside the stone walls, she can hear the faintest sounds of a city beginning to wake, shuddering against the pre-dawn chill, but it doesn't quite yet permeate the Citadel. It will be a while yet before sunrise.

It's only her rigid internal clock, trained to be up and moving before the sun, that drags her to consciousness. They had only returned from Wintersun last night and her body aches from long travel and the struggles they'd found there. She hadn't looked at a single problem that had accumulated in her time away, doing almost nothing except collapse into bed.

It's why she's so confused at the warmth at her back, cocooned with her under the thick blankets against the frigid air. From where the covers have slipped off her shoulders, a single, golden-skinned arm rests in front of her, draped over her hip and glowing faintly. She can just hear the gentle sounds of Daeran's breathing behind her, his breath ghosting against her ear.

Sparrow had half-thought it a dream, Daeran appearing in her quarters last night and laughing at her exhausted notice that she was not up for anything but sleep. "I know I have a reputation, but even I'm not in the mood tonight," he said, but then he hadn't left, either.

It was the first night he'd done that--slept with her, just sleep, ever since they first started their frequent liaisons.

Sparrow tries not to read too much into it. Daeran might have decided not to bother going back to his rooms on the north side of Drezen and stayed for convenience's sake; there didn't have to be any kind of emotional significance to him wanting to be in her company beyond sex. Certainly, if his presence last night had helped ease some of the heartache she carried from Wintersun, kept the nightmares of the villagers' screams at bay, then that was just a benefit for her. He hardly could have known about it when he'd tucked himself at her side.

It hurts a little that she wants it to be more than that. Daeran set his boundaries, made it clear what he expected of the relationship when they started--that this isn't one, not really, just some fun and something to distract and relax each other.

And it's a little relieving, to have it at that level--nothing too serious, nothing to get too attached to. Daeran will stay until he gets bored, because that's what he does, that's what he's told her he does, and one day he'll run off to the next shiny person that captures his interest and Sparrow will be an adult about it when that happens.

But. Sparrow knows she's never been good about separating what she wants from what she knows is the truth--that little seed of hope always blooms, frail and pathetic but still insistent. It grows in the roses that still decorate the war room, perpetually fresh and fragrant; it hides between the lines of the note that stays folded on her desk, Daeran's hand telling her to remember him when all else fades. It's in the ghostly apparition of the boy she'd seen at Heaven's Edge, who had everything ripped away from him and had been left utterly alone. Sparrow recognized that emotion, feels that same isolation in herself.

And ever since they started their not-relationship, that feeling of kinship has only grown stronger--she understands him better now, reads his moods more easily, understands his jokes and his thought processes from the late-night conversations they've taken to having, from the way he moves with her. She wants permanence, even if she wouldn't know what permanent would look like with them. Even though she knows that this is ephemeral, and she needs to listen to what he tells her and not just what she wants to hear.

His companionship has made the stress of leading an entire Crusade more bearable, and the feeling of actually being vulnerable with someone has been...nice. She shouldn't get upset that it isn't more, might not ever be more. She can temper her expectations.

Of course, she'd said the same thing when she let herself become friends with Woljif, who told her every moment he would leave, and then she was still devastated when he disappeared, still felt so relieved when he returned. But she can do better this time. She can still try.

And the first way she can do that is by not wallowing. The room has slowly grown brighter since she first opened her eyes, the beginnings of dawn peeking through the heavy curtains, and Sparrow can't justify staying in bed any longer. Daeran's breathing hasn't changed, still deep in sleep, but then she expects he won't rise until mid morning at the very earliest and wouldn't be surprised if she didn't see him awake before noon. Slowly, she slides across the bed, pulling up the covers to climb out without disturbing it too much--

The arm draped over her tightens, pulls her back under. Sparrow twists to look at Daeran's smooth, sleep-still face. A reflex? But then he grimaces, slitting his eyes open blearily. "Cold," Daeran mutters.

"I know, I'm sorry," Sparrow says. Guilt over waking him wars with something softer that sparks at seeing his mussed, open expression, free of artifice and polish. "It'll warm up quickly when I'm gone, just stay under the covers. I didn't mean to wake you."

Daeran blinks, unfortunately seeming to grow more awake with her words. "Is the fortress on fire? Or has someone died? I can't think of any other justifiable reason to be awake at this unholy hour."

That does draw a short huff of laughter from Sparrow. "I'm usually up at this time," she whispers. Really, he ought to know this by now. He's slept through plenty of mornings where Sparrow rose and left her rooms before he even flirted with consciousness. "Really, it's fine. Go back to sleep. I'll be quiet."

Daeran makes a noise of deep grievance. "It was past midnight when you finally went to sleep," he says. He pulls her closer and presses his lips against her shoulder, her neck, then the arc of her jaw. The touches leave spots of sparking heat in their wake, points of warmth that spread over her body like submerging into hot water. "After the nonsense we dealt with getting that key, you deserve more than four hours of sleep. The day can wait until it's actually day, for once."

That sounds so nice Sparrow struggles to remember the weight of all the tasks waiting for her, over a week's worth of administrative duties the excursion to Wintersun made her ignore. "I really--"

The words are cut off by a full kiss, soft and slow and then deepening. It's lazy and tired; Daeran is just as exhausted as she is. "It can wait. No one will care if you achieve some proper rest for once, and if they do you can welcome them to go hiking through these blighted lands in your stead. Stay. The bed is too warm to leave right now."

Maybe he's right. Sparrow certainly feels warm, warmer than even the heavy blankets and Daeran's body can explain. Slowly, she settles back down, facing him this time, hesitantly slotting her body against his. Daeran's arm wraps back around her body, and she closes her eyes.

Sparrow never stays in bed past sunrise. And yet, it is the easiest thing in the world to fall back asleep.

[archiveikemen]

'If I Were A Demon Princess' Collection Event — Yasuchika Bonus Story

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading and playing their games.

read this before interacting with my posts

What would it be like if the one I made a deal with was the demon?

This is a story about me and “him”, after I made a deal with Ibuki and became a Demon Princess —

I was thinking about Yasuchika while getting ready to call it a night.

(He said he’ll be coming home late tonight. I wonder if he’s home already?)

We weren’t lovers, we just happened to be living in the same mansion.

Basically, whether or not he comes home late from work is none of my concern.

(But I’m still worried. I doubt I’ll be able to fall asleep… I’ll just take a walk in the garden and see if he’s at the gate.)

…

(... Oh, there he is!)

I went to the garden and caught sight of Yasuchika sneaking around.

His eyes widened slightly when he saw me.

Yasuchika: Oh hey! Good evening, Demon Princess. What brings you here at this hour?

He struck up a conversation with a big smile.

Yasuchika: Staying up late is not a good thing. Be a good girl and go to bed, okay?

He had his usual smile and tone.

(“Demon Princess”...)

I usually didn't mind being called that.

But tonight, there was something prickly about the way he said it, and I just couldn't get it out of my head.

Yuno: … Don’t talk to me like that.

Yasuchika was taken aback and his smile disappeared.

Yasuchika: Okay. … Sorry.

(Uh oh… I made him apologize.)

I immediately shook my head.

Yuno: No, don’t apologize. I sounded too harsh, sorry.

Yasuchika: I didn't think so. I understand that nobody wants to be reminded that they made a deal with a demon like Ibuki.

Yasuchika responded with a smile and went back to being his usual self.

Yuno: Oh. Yasuchika, on your cheek.

Yasuchika: Hm? … Ah.

I reached my hand out when I saw a cut on Yasuchika’s cheek.

But I stopped myself when I noticed his facial expression grow tense.

Yuno: Uhm… can I help you treat your wound?

I offered to help, even though I had the feeling that it might be awkward for him.

Yasuchika: I didn't even notice that I got injured. It's alright, I’m fine.

Yasuchika declined my offer in a lighthearted tone and took a step back to put some distance between us.

(... Could it be that he doesn't want to be touched?)

That kind of hurt my feelings.

Yasuchika seemed to notice it, and he quickly spoke up in an unusually panicked tone.

Yasuchika: That's not what I meant.

Yasuchika: I don't hate being touched by you. It's just…

Yuno: Yeah?

Yasuchika: I’m afraid that touching me will taint your hands.

(What…)

I was puzzled by that unexpected reply — and then it hit me.

(There’s a reason why he came home late tonight.)

Why else would he try to avoid contact with others on his way back to his room?

Yuno: … Did you run into trouble at work today?

Yasuchika: !

Even in the dark, I could see Yasuchika gasp.

Then he gave a loud sigh… that was a clear enough answer to my question.

Yasuchika: I don't have a very pretty job. I’m sure you already know that.

Yuno: … Yes.

Yasuchika: That’s why it's best if you don't touch me.

Yuno: B-But–

Yasuchika: I don't want to taint you.

Yasuchika said bluntly and winced in pain afterwards.

Yasuchika: … But you’re bonded by a deal to the guy I hate most.

Yasuchika: You’re an ordinary girl with a good heart. … I wonder why you chose to make a deal with that demon.

Yasuchika: You knew that your life was going to become so messed up and filled with danger.

Yuno: I…

Yasuchika: Why do the people I want to see happy have to go through the toughest situations?

(Oh…)

(Yasuchika is talking about Akihito too.)

His words touched my heart.

Ignoring everything he said about not touching him, I held his hand.

Yasuchika: ! Yuno

Yuno: I don't think touching you will taint my hands.

Yuno: I couldn't avoid making a deal with Ibuki, but I don't regret it either.

Yuno: I’m going to move on with my life and see how I can make the most out of my situation.

Yasuchika looked at me in surprise, then a faint smile formed on his face.

Yasuchika: You’re a strong woman. But I still want you to remain pure.

Yuno: Yasuchika…

Yasuchika: Ahh I really don't like this. I hate Ibuki even more now for forcing you to make a deal with him and trapping you.

Yasuchika: I feel like attacking him right this instant.

Yuno: Whaat?

(That’s kind of… um.)

Yasuchika: Just kidding.

Unlike the disturbing words he just said, Yasuchika had a relaxed smile.

He gently squeezed my hand back — and I smiled at him in response.